Lessons Unlearned
by BackwardsMuffin
Summary: Kurt's mother had always stressed the importance of Stranger Safety. But now, hunched in the darkened room, with his limbs bound roughly behind his back, and a rope gag between his lips. Kurt wished more than ever, that he had really paid attention
1. Prologue  Chapter 1

**A/N: Part of my 11 year old brothers holiday work, is discussing the issues of Stranger Safety. The quotes at the top of each chapter are points from his work sheets. The rest, is my twisted imagination run loose!**

* * *

><p><em>Always talk about safety with your parents. They will help you, and give you the advice needed to fully understand Stranger Safety!<em>

* * *

><p>Kurt had been only 7 when his mom had sat him down for <em>the talk<em>. Not the one that most _teenagers_ dreaded, about hormones and urges, but the one most _kids_ didn't understand; about Safety.

Kurt had never really thought about his safety before. He'd just presumed that his parents would look out for him, and keep him safe. But his mommy had told him that wasn't the case.

Yes, his mommy and daddy loved him. But they wouldn't always be around to help him. When he got older, and he was allowed to do things on his own, he needed to be safe. One day, he would be out playing with his friends, or out in the mall with his parents, and he would lose sight of the people he was with, and if he couldn't see them, it most likely meant they couldn't see him either, which meant he needed to be careful, and keep an eye out for 'bad people and danger.'

People may seem nice on the outside, but as his mommy always said, it was what was on the inside that counted. And not everyone was a nice person. There really were some villains in the world, like in the movies, only these ones usually had candy rather than a magic wand.

Kurt nodded along to this, not really focusing on what his adamant mother had to say, having lost focus once she stopped talking about playing or shopping, now too focused on what he would be eating in his next tea party with daddy to really take in the information.

They were seated on opposite sides of the dining room table. A sheet of paper situated between them. Kurt caught glimpses of what his mother was trying to say, but it didn't piece together as it should have. Small words like _Stranger, nice, pretend, trust and Abduction,( _which Kurt didn't understand_) _were mentioned. Kurt was scared by the last word. It was long and complicated, and had a threatening air about it. It had made his mommy's eyes go shiny when she mentioned it. And Kurt didn't like his mommy having shiny eyes, because it meant she was going to cry.

Kurt rushed over to where his mommy sat and wrapped his little arms around her as tightly as he could. She sniffed as a small smile emerged on her face. She leant down to press a soft kiss to her sons forehead, and Kurt giggled and wiped it away with his shirt sleeve. Calling out 'Icky' in his innocent childish tone.

She laughed and ruffled his hair gently, inconspicuously wiping away the tears that started to trickle slowly down her cheeks.

She told Kurt to sit down again and carefully slid the piece of paper closer to her son. He eyed it suspiciously before scooping it up with his chubby fingers and reading through it in confusion.

'Mommy, what is this?' He had asked, twisting the paper round and waving it before his mothers face.

'This, sweetie, is a very important list.' She had said, calmly but compellingly. 'I want you to memorise all the things written down, can you do that for me.'

Kurt nodded vigorously and began to read through the paper again. 'What does it all mean though?' He asked again, his eye brows furrowed in confusion.

'Well.' His mother said, leaning over to point at things inscribed on the sheet. 'This here, is your daddy and my names, and these-.' She gestured below. 'are our telephone numbers and our address. If anything, and I mean anything, bad happens to you Kurt, I want you to use these to contact daddy and me. Ok?'

'Promise me you'll be safe. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you sweetie. Promise me!'

Kurt promised, not wanting his mommy's eyes to cry again, and for added affect, he even reread the information several times, before quietly folding the sheet, and placing it inside his jacket pocket.

He didn't really need to worry right? His mommy and daddy would look after him. They always would, wouldn't they? No need to worry.

* * *

><p>Two days later, on the Monday of school. Kurt's teacher had handed them a worksheet. On the head of the sheet, were the bright red bossed words <em>Stranger Safety, <em>underneath which were many mini headings.

Who is a stranger? (People you don't know or who aren't family)  
>How do you know who to trust? (Have your parents give you a safe list, of adults and alike, who you can talk to and trust, who won't lie to you)<br>What do you do if a stranger tries to touch or take you away without your permission? ( Say _No_ if someone tries to touch you or makes you feel scared or uncomfortable, _Go_ quickly way from the situation, and _Tell_ a trusted adult.)

It was just like his mommy had told him. Kurt skimmed the worksheet, filled in appropriate answers and that was it. People in the class were making silly jokes about it, and Kurt laughed along with everyone else. Things like Abduct- ...Abduct-...Abduct-thingy could never happen to him. Why was everyone suddenly so worried about his safety?

* * *

><p>Neither the teacher nor his parents told Kurt why. They didn't want to scare him. So they hid the newspapers, and hurriedly changed channels whenever the young boys name flashed across the screen.<p>

Tommy Winchester. 12 years old, and recently found dead. His body stripped of clothes and covered in large green bruises and knife wounds, coated in crusted blood. His corpse painted in the mud of the ditch in which he was found. Lost in a shopping centre 3 weeks ago, the doctors couldn't confirm cause of death, or the severity of the wounds inflicted. But the grape vine was long and tangled around Lima, and most people were aware of the greatest rumour.

Abducted, Drugged, Raped, Beaten, and finally Stabbed to Death, his body dumped in a ditch several miles out of town.

This was, after months of speculation, confirmed to be true.

* * *

><p>Even after Kurt discovered the boys story, (a year or so down the line when Tommy's parents came to give a lecture on safety to his schools student body ) he still didn't see the problem.<p>

Yes, what happened to Tommy was terrible, and Kurt had cried at least three times after hearing it.

But Tommy was one in a million. That sort of thing was so rare. Kurt had never heard of it before, nothing like that could happen again, not in Lima!

* * *

><p>Still, amidst the panic of Tommy's death, and the frantic rants of parents and teachers, no one actually explained what to do if all prior points went wrong, and you were taken.<p>

But now, 9 years later, hunched in the damp and dusky room, with his limbs bound behind his back, his hair slicked down with sweat and grease and a gag between his lips. Kurt wished... more than ever, that he knew.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: To those of you wondering why this is being posted, rather than an update to my other stories. It's because this already has several chapters done. I will work out when to post the next chapter, depending on the feedback So...yey...happy reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is the run up to what happened at the end of last chapter. There is backstory, and a bucket load of foreshadowing...but it is spilt into pieces, this is part 1...of around 3 in this arc i think.**

_If you are in a public area, make sure you are with family or friends, preferably in a large group for added security._

* * *

><p>'That was Epic!.' An avid Nick cheered as he moon walked his way out of The Gap.<p>

'Too right.' Nick said, leaping after him, followed by the rest of the whooping Warblers, who were all high on post-performance adrenaline.

'God, those boys.' Kurt sighed, nudging Blaine playfully as he watched his friends dance away into surrounding stores. 'It's like looking after toddlers. Body popping toddlers.'

Blaine laughed and followed Kurt to a bench opposite The Gap. Kurt had a dejected grimace plastered to his face as he stared into the nothingness that was the stores window display. Which changed to a fake and jovial smile when his friend turned to him and gushed again about Jeremiah, only to be replaced with the heart-rendering sadness as he looked away.

Dozens of people were milling around the pair, all carrying arm fulls of large, stuffed shopping bags, filled to the brink with expensive goods.

Kurt wished he could afford such luxuries now. Curse the stupid Dalton price tag.

* * *

><p>20 minutes later, and Jeremiah came out, his face flushed and his eyes glaring daggers at Blaine.<p>

'-I just got fired.' That was the line that really hit Blaine. His features dropped and his shoulders hung limply at his sides.

A few more bitter words and a pat on the arm, and Jeremiah was gone, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone to mope on the bench.

'...you do know that was actually a pretty terrible idea, right? It's his workplace' Kurt said with only a splattering of false commiseration.

To be honest, Kurt did't even think he really should have _any _fake sympathy for his _friend_. He had made it perfectly obvious that he has feelings for Blaine, and said feelings (and, funnily enough, his feelings for Kurt) had been noticed by several people (the majority of the Warblers.) Although, at the same time, he _is _Blaine, Kurt's best friend, and there's something in that friendship which means he really can't hate Blaine, even if he did sing a vastly inappropriate song to _a different_ man.

Kurt grits his teeth and stares down at his friend. The dejected male, slumped on a bench with his head in his hands, whining to himself. His reply to Kurt, 'Yeah' comes out as more of a mumble than anything else, but Kurt decides not to bring up Blaine's failure at enunciation, as he usually would, and instead rubs comforting circles into his friends back

'Look, Blaine, I know how you're feeling, I really do. I've made a huge fool of myself like that, though on a less public scale, and with the boy who is now my stepbrother...' Kurt trailed off, shuddering. 'But... let's just think about it from Jeremy-'

'Jeremiah.' Blaine corrects instantaneously.

Kurt huffs. '_Jeremiah's_ point of view then... You're a friend, and right now, not only is he probably feeling embarrassed well into next week, but he's also lost his job.'

If Blaine realised how much it is hurting Kurt to admit that he actually feels pretty darn bad for the guy who stole Blaine's heart from him, he certainly doesn't say anything. Which leads Kurt to believe, and rightfully so, that Blaine really didn't notice, doesn't understand, as is just wallowing in self-pity. Waiting for his _friend _to help him out of his depression and bring him back to his bubbly self again.

That thought just annoyed Kurt further, especially when Blaine hummed with false understanding and depth, and gazes at Kurt with the unfair use of his adorable puppy eyes. 'I know…' he said miserably , though he doesn't sound like he wants to know.

'It would be like if I declared my...hypothetical' He muttered the last part. ' affection for you in front of all the Warblers ,then _you _ended up getting thrown out, without really doing anything.' _pfft...hypothetical my foot_

They way Blaine followed that sentiment up, nearly brought tears to Kurt's eyes.

He glanced over at Kurt with a newly emerged smile and laughed. Downright laughs at Kurt. In a way that says the situation is more amusing than helpful, and the feelings Kurt expressed really are just hypothetical, not something the younger boy struggles with every goddamn day of his life.

Kurt tried not to dwell on the fact that Blaine thinks the idea of him and Kurt is preposterous and instead turns away, so Blaine can't see the tears forming in his eyes, and threatening to break free at any moment.

'I'm...' Kurt sniffed, as gracefully as he could. 'I'm going to talk to Jeremy's-'

'Jeremiah's.'

Kurt clenched his fist in fury at how insensitive Blaine is being right now.

'_Jeremiah's_-' he said through gritted teeth. '-manager, all right Blaine? I want to see if I can persuade him to give _Jeremiah-'_ he put unnecessary emphasis on the name. '-his job back.'

With that, Kurt stood up and started heading towards the store. Not waiting for a reply from Blaine, who is still acting far too self-centred to even give Kurt a thank you.

**A/N: Just gonna say, the music playing in the background of the Jeremiah rejection scene, is the same as in the Klaine 'I love you' scene. Waddya know eh?**

**As with last chapter, the next chapter will be uploaded depending on feedback, so R&R :)**


	3. Chapter 3

_Stay an arms reach plus away from strangers and avoid eye contact if possible._

* * *

><p>Getting Jeremiah his job back seemed to be a lot easier than Kurt had imagined. He apologised for the spontaneous outburst, and after a short, calm discussion with the Gap senior manager, (During which Kurt may or may not have used Jeremiahs sexuality as an excuse for a discrimination court case if the manager wasn't careful) he found the job miraculously returned. So long as no, very important, (and imaginary) lawyers were called.<p>

Kurt was feeling strangely cheerful, and rather accomplished after ensuring Jeremiah's job was re-instated. He laughed to himself, at how he managed to fix this useless situation Blaine and his imbecilic ideas created.

There was definitely a change in Kurt's attitude when he returned to the bench, unfortunately, there seemed to be no such luck with Blaine. He was still hunched over, his face in his lap, wallowing in self-pity. No sign of getting up of his own free will.

Truth be told, Kurt was at least expecting his friend to look up, or even acknowledge his arrival. Hopefully a '_Thank you for getting the guy I am crushing on his job back, even though you hate him because you like me and I am being an oblivious imbecile and not noticing all the crystal clear signals you are directing at my face'._ Maybe a '_And thank you for not questioning me and helping me, even though I am being a right shit head at the moment, completely ignoring your feelings and stamping all over your heart as I serenade a way older man whom I barely know, despite the fact that I have been flirting recklessly with you for the past few months, sending you mixed signals even god wouldn't understand'_

But no, he got nothing, not even a wretched _hello. _Kurt had to actually sit down on the bench, cough several (13) times, place a hand on Blaine's shoulder and eventually shake him rather rigorously, before the down trodden boy even looked up. His face was painted with a rather sheepish expression as he nodded in acknowledgement of Kurt's presence.

Kurt extended his hand and laced his fingers together with Blaine's.

'Come on.' He sighed, dragging Blaine to his feet, despite the mumbled protests the boy gave. 'Let's get you back to Dalton. You can be a miserable sod there, were people aren't staring.'

His eyes stray to the blonde man, who is lurking some way in the distance, his face hidden by shadows. Seemingly part of the ordinary, but Kurt was aware that said man had been staring at the pair since he got back from his discussion with the Gap Manager, and truth be told, he didn't want to spend much time in said mans vicinity much longer.

Blaine shuffled along after Kurt, as they headed towards the bus. Most of the other Warblers are already piling on board, arms laden with shopping bags, mainly from Mad Hatter joke store down the road, or the Video Game place next to The Gap. Kurt eventually gets Blaine on board and sits down next to him, offering a comforting shoulder, and encouraging him to let it all out, so Kurt can ideally have a quiet evening back at Dalton, rather than have Blaine spurt out nonsensical gibberish into the dead of night.

* * *

><p>Kurt snorted in disdain as the boys pelt each other with spit balls and make disgusting fart sounds from bright yellow putty. Blaine was far too absorbed in his own miserable rants that he didn't notice the itching powder being poured into his hair. Kurt wasn't really paying attention to Blaine's ramblings, only catching snippets of the one sided conversation. That was until one part caught his attention.<p>

'-I mean, when I first saw Jeremiah at Dalton-'

'Wait. Dalton? Why was he at Dalton?' Kurt questioned, suddenly intrigued.

'Oh, He said he was dropping off some of the stuff the other guys ordered; a crate load of shirts and all that jazz. I mean I vaguely recognised him from that time you and I went shopping, so I didn't exactly question him. But then we got talking-'

Kurt's attention dissipated as easily as it had arrived. He nodded along to Blaine, and occasionally hummed, not knowing if he was agreeing or protesting a point his friend made. Not that said friend seemed to care. He was in the zone, a zone which, Kurt hoped, would soon be gone, and replaced with a new zone that allowed Blaine to shut up and watch a movie with him until the small hours.

**A/N: Things start to get interesting soon... ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Brief note, the chapters in this fic will be quite short. Mainly so I can write them quickly and update frequently. Hope that's ok. If you would rather have longer chapters but fewer updates please do tell me, because I'll do that instead.**

**I also got my exam results yesterday! BOOM, :D ...awesomeness**

* * *

><p><em>Don't talk to Strangers<em>

* * *

><p>It was around three days before Kurt saw his friend again, as Blaine was relieved from his funk.<p>

After wallowing alone in his room for the entirety of the weekend, with only The Notebook and a jumbo pack of popcorn for company; He returned to his boisterous self and was back to dancing on the furniture and singing stupid songs. (Thankfully no longer about sex toys) Needless to say, Kurt was still hacked off. His feelings had been flung aside yet again and even after fetching Blaine meals from the cafeteria when he wouldn't eat, and objects from his friends; (A rather lewd picture from Jeff, meant to cheer Blaine up, but only reducing him to a teary eyed baby as he pictured _what could have been _with Jeremiah) he was still only thanked with the odd glance or curt nod, no verbal recognition at all.

* * *

><p>It was around four days before he saw Jeremiah again.<p>

Kurt was strolling down to the science labs, situated on the far side of campus. He was just passing the sports field parking, taking a short cut Blaine had once showed him (back in the days before the bitter resentment Kurt felt residing in his chest every time his friend was mentioned), when a familiar uniform caught his attention.

Jeremiah was leaning against a small silver car, which was parked next to the gym coaches large Sudan, clad in his hideous Gap store uniform, his miss-spelt name tag blaring from his chest. His gaze was fixed on Kurt, which unnerved the younger man quite a bit. Kurt took several steps, watching him from the corner of his eye, as the other mans were still fixated on him. Kurt wasn't sure what to make of this. He kept his features away from the man, not wanting to give himself away too easily, but eventually the unswerving stare became too much and he stopped and turned, sticking a blasé scowl on his face.

'Can I help you?' he asked, initiating his snarky tone.

Jeremiah startled, his body trembling in the realisation that he was caught.

'Umm-' he mumbled, as Kurt fixed him with a bitch glare.

'If you're looking for Blaine, then I can't help you. He's not in my next class-' Kurt drawled.

'No, no' Jeremiah said, far too quickly. Straightening himself up, and brushing down his uniform. 'I was...well...I was just...' he hesitated, and his eyes darted around, as if searching for something. 'Just...delivering a few parcels...yes. One of your lot ordered in yet more shirts.' He said, giving an uncertain chuckle.

Kurt laughed along in spite of himself. 'And your using, what I presume is your own car, why exactly?'

Jeremiah spun around and took in the vehicle behind him. 'Oh...well...in exchange for... not firing me I have to... use my own car...yeah, and therefore pay for the gas. Which is a bitch.'

Again Kurt laughed, though there was something in his voice that said he didn't quite believe the older man.

'Right...' he shook his head tersely. 'So, why are you still here?'

'Oh, right!' Jeremiah said, his eyes lighting up. 'I was actually hoping to run into you...' He wavered, waiting for a completion of his sentence with a name.

'Kurt.' The boy supplied.

'Kurt.' Jeremiah said, with a lingering softness in his voice. 'I wanted to thank you. For you know, getting me my job back and all. I really appreciate it. It... really meant a lot to me. No one has been that nice to me...ever really, so yeah...thanks.' Jeremiah twisted his feet awkwardly, and began to tap his fingers

Kurt looked a bit taken aback. His eyes widened with shock, but almost slammed back shut again as a wave of suspicion hit him. Maybe it was the fact the Blaine _liked _Jeremiah that made Kurt so unsure around the man, either that or the hair. _That could scare anyone stiff_, he thought.

'Yes.' Kurt said, shedding his nervous exterior and replacing it with his snarky, greater than thou expression; which could make even grown men cower in fear. ( Like his dad when he said no to the Gucci tote. No one- but no one, said no to Kurt when it came to fashion)

'Well your welcome. I felt we owed it to you after our club caused you to lose your job anyway.' He stuck his nose up higher, and puffed out his chest. In an almost obscene show of superiority.

'Now, if you don't mind. I have a class to get to. And I'm already late.' He began to walk. 'Be seeing you.' he called out over his shoulder.

**A/N: My Tumblr! I can work it now, and it is awesome...:) My mom would be so proud...if she knew what Tumblr was... :L Follow me, I follow back Backwardsmuffin[DOT]Tumblr[DOT]com**

**Review if you want the next chapter...because i'm going away on Sun and not sure if i should update before i go! *evil smirk***


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So i am updating before i leave. Prepare for some OOC-ness, but I have my reasons ;) **

_Trust, and stick with your friends. There is safety in numbers._

* * *

><p>Once again, Blaine was being stupid, and it all started with his messed up apology.<p>

He came swanning into Kurt's dorm room, late on Friday night. One hand clutching a tattered copy of the Little Mermaid; the other, a pair of grey and red woolly socks. Still clad in their cardboard packaging.

'Kurt.' Blaine said, in a cheery sing song tone. 'I know you and I haven't been on the best of terms lately, and I'm sorry.'

_Well that was unexpected_.

'I know I wasn't very tactful after... the _Jeremiah_-' The name was now a hushed whisper, as if Blaine was speaking of some grave event ; the name no longer held in high esteem. 'incident. But I was a fool, crying on your shoulder. You probably wanted me to go away, because I was ruining your shirt.' He let out a nervous chuckle, eyeing Kurt as if he was expecting a similar reaction. He was instead just given an icy glare that said _continue, you are still in some serious shit mister. _

'So...well...I came here to apologise. I've been a horrid friend. Really terrible, and I hope you'll forgive me. '

Kurt's expression softened, yet the scowl remained.

'Kurt. I came bearing Disney movies in the hopes of cheering you up. You seemed really down.' _So he had noticed. _'I know it's probably because the gap attack didn't go well.' _Wrong _'but I'm not worrying anymore, neither are the others. No need to dwell in the past eh?'

_Well done Blaine. That little speech and you've just lost apology points you'd built up. Try again._

Blaine smiled at Kurt and hopped over to the TV in the corner of Kurt's double room. His roommate having gone home for the weekend already. Blaine slipped his copy of The Little Mermaid into the machine and began skimming through the menu's and jumping the commercials, whilst Kurt got himself comfy on the bed.

* * *

><p>The movie had distracted both boys for a significant amount of time. Right now, Ariel was crying over her lost Prince and voice, whilst Ursula danced into the distance with Eric, and Kurt was immediately reminded of his situation. He mind began to wander, thinking of all the ways things had gone wrong for him this past week. It couldn't get much worse.. Pretty much an all time low right now, Kurt mused.<p>

Funnily enough, that was when Blaine chose to speak up.

'Kurt?' He asked, his voice wavering slightly. 'Are- are you going on the trip to the mall tomorrow?'

Kurt hummed in agreement, shifting his gaze so he was watching Blaine's head. (who was sitting on the floor at the foot of Kurt's bed)

'Are you...are you...busy? I mean...have you...err...planned anything to do there?' He asked, turning round a little, hope flashing in his eyes.

_Oh no, this couldn't be...he wasn't?_

'N-no.' Kurt mumbled. 'W- why do you ask?'

_Blaine, please, please, please be about to ask what I think you're about to ask!_

'Then...err...Kurt...'

_Please, please, please!_

'Will you...' *_mumble_*

_Please_

'to the' _*mumble_*

_Please_

'-me.'

_Oh god, he is, he must be, there's nothing else it could be. Oh lord YES!_

'Sorry Blaine, I didn't quite catch that!'

_Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes._

'Will you take these back to the Gap for me?'

_Yes, yes, yes, yes- WHAT?_

'What?' Kurt squeaked, his heart stopping as Blaine shifted around where he sat. In his hand he was waving the stripy socks he had purchased at the Gap Attack, along with a fluttering white receipt.

'It's just...well...I don't think I could bear to step foot in that shop again. I'm probably banned anyway, and well...I couldn't return them myself anyway.'

'And why pray tell, is that?' Kurt squeaked, sensing a terrible answer coming his way.

'I have a date.'

_WHAT?_

'What do you mean Kurt?'

_Oh please say I didn't say that out loud_

'Yes, you did _Kurt_! What on earth do you mean by that anyway?'

'N-Nothing!' He stammered quickly.

'Bullshit that's nothing.' Blaine said, raising his voice as he turned to face Kurt. 'You've been acting all depressed and mopey all week, then you start shouting at me when I voice my weekend plans. What is wrong with you Kurt?'

Then Kurt snapped.

'You want to know what's _wrong _with me Blaine. You really want to know?' Blaine's eyes widened as Kurt sat up and slid off the bed until he was standing upright, hands on his jutted hips, glaring down at Blaine, who was scrambling to get to his feet.

'Then I'll freaking tell you.'

'I sat with you and the Warblers, for 7 hours, practising a number _I didn't even like_; so you can serenade a man you _barely_ know. A man who I dare say is far too old for you, his hair is far too disgusting, and he smells homeless.'

He took a step closer to Blaine, who was also on his feet now, and glaring back at Kurt.

'When we finally perform said _travesty_ of a song, I spend nearly an _hour_ sitting outside, in the _freezing_ cold, waiting with you so you can meet with your precious _crush, _when I could be having fun, shopping with the other guys_.'_

He took another step, slowly backing Blaine into a corner.

'Said crush, then precedes to reject you, and you spend the next _hour_ being a _complete _social reject and_ completely_ ignoring _me_ whilst_ I_ try and comfort you, as you weep into your sleeves.'

He took a jab at Blaine's chest. The smaller boy stumbled back, shocked by Kurt's outburst of violence.

'You don't even have the _courtesy *jab*_ to say thank you *jab* when I go out *jab*of *jab*my *jab*way *jab* to get the guy you serenaded his job back, when it's obvious *jab*I loathe him. The entire *jab* bus ride back to Dalton you are moping on my shoulder, weeping about how _amazing _and _wonderful _and _handsome Jeremiah _is, without a single thought as to how I might be feeling, or what I might have to say.'

Blaine's back was almost flat against the wall now as Kurt kept edging towards him, finger at the ready, his nails glinting maliciously in the light, ready to slice.

'I spent my _entire weekend _looking after you. I brought you food when you wouldn't eat, sleeping pills when you wouldn't sleep. I delivered all your things from the other boys and I didn't even get a freaking _thank you.' _

'You then spend the rest of the school week not talking to me, hanging out with all the others, dancing on furniture and singing stupid pop songs, and completely ignoring me, and pretending like nothing ever happened. Like I did nothing, like everything is all hunky-dory again, whilst I have to live with the repercussions of your depression. '

Finally, Blaine was backed against the wall, his hands pinned to his sides, Kurt's razor sharp finger nail poking sharply into his chest.

'And now, you have the _audacity_ to ask what's wrong with me?' Kurt shrieked. Glaring absolute daggers at Blaine, who was almost whimpering at the sight of his _friend._

'Look Blaine. Look right in front of you. I'm here. I've always been freaking _here_. But you _never _notice me. I'm just some freaking kid you can play your games with, that right? Prefer the older guys eh? I'm nothing. You can just flirt with me, and lead me on all you like, because at the end of the day I'm just like a freaking puppy, aren't I? _Always _coming back to you, no matter how badly you treat me. Well guess what _Blaine-' _His name was said with such venom, Blaine was actually taken aback. Kurt spat the words out with a dreadful loathing and Blaine was positive he'd never seen such anger in Kurt's eyes.

'-I'm not coming back anymore. I was _stupid_ enough to believe you might _actually_ like me. That I'm not just some repulsive _fairy _who deserves to be trampled on. I thought you actually _cared_ about _me_, or _my_ feelings. But turns out I'm just another piece in your little game. Lead me on, flirt with me, then drop everything when a new guy comes along.'

Blaine saw the tears beginning to shimmer in Kurt's eyes. 'What has Jeremiah...or this new guy- got that I don't? What? Is it the hair, or the job, or the age. Because I can't change who I am. I won't be someone else. I tried that with the Warblers, and It didn't work.'

'I would do almost _anything_ to be with you Blaine. But I won't change who I am. So now, I'm just going to have to learn to live with myself. And the fact that I _always _fall for the wrong damn people. I'm gonna have another broken heart, because clearly I'm not worthy of anyone's affection.'

Blaine gulped audibly as Kurt turned away from him. His eyes glistening with tears that threatened to pour over at any moment.

'And you know what Blaine.' Kurt said, his voice not much more than a hoarse whisper now. 'I'm still going to take those wretched socks back. Because I'm actually a nice person, and I do things like that.'

He took several steps back over to the bed, where he stood, still facing away from Blaine, who was trembling slightly in the corner.

'Have fun on your date Blaine, I'll be rooting for you. But for now, can you just leave. Because I'm worried my inner Mercedes is about to break loose, which means my nails would be at your throat. And despite all, I _really _don't want to hurt you.'

Blaine nodded frantically, and practically sprinted to the door, heaving it open and dashing out.

When Kurt heard the familiar plunk of wood as the door shut, he allowed his emotions to take over him. His body trembled and he all but collapsed onto the bed. His body wrenching with tears.

'_I'm worthless' _a small voice in his head repeated like a mantra as he cried himself into a dreamless sleep. The credits to the Little Mermaid playing softly in the background.

**A/N: Next Chapter... IT! **


	6. Chapter 6

_Never accept items from Strangers. Not purchases, not valuables, not even your own possessions. _

* * *

><p>It was 4 days before he saw Jeremiah again. Though this time, the meeting was expected.<p>

He was standing in line at the gap. Clutching the socks Blaine has asked him to return. To say Kurt was over their fight, would be a lie. He was silently fuming, and had refused to talk to the other boy all week. Blaine knew how stubborn Kurt was, and hadn't tried to approach him about it. Knowing full well that he would get whatever apology he churned out, crumpled up and spat back in his face.

Truth be told, Kurt did kind of miss the familiar _ping _that his phone gave whenever a new text from Blaine arrived. His normally bursting inbox felt rather empty without them. And his voice during their afternoon study sessions and that dreamboat smile and those sexy eyebrows and those killer eyes, all deep hazel and gold swirls, you could just melt into them...

But now was no time for dwelling on Blaine. Now was a time for, being the better man in this situation, helping out a friend, and trying to get over his silly little crush. Maybe a shopping trip that would max his credit card would help? He could rope in Jeff and Nick (who were also on the trip into town) into carrying his bags. (He _would_ ask Blaine, but...yeah...not to mention that scrawny little flea ridden jerk faced good for nothing slime boy- he was on a date with...but Kurt wasn't jealous...)

Kurt finally reached the front of the line and was greeted by a chirping young woman, donning a shiny white name tag reading _Shirley xx. _Kurt rolled his eyes at the cutesy swirls drawn around the name with pink marker, and simply thrust the socks and receipt into her out stretched hands, with only a slight show of contempt_. _After a couple of agonizing minutes, during which Shirley kept giggling loudly and trying desperately to spark conversation with the young man; Kurt was handed his 4 dollars 99 cents, and quickly fled the store.

Just as he was about to pass through the doors, he felt a strong hand latch on to the sleeve of his jacket. Kurt gasped as he was tugged back inside, only to come face to face with a smirking Jeremiah.

'Hey Kurt' he said, showing a dazzling array of teeth as he grinned. _Hmm, one nice thing about him... against a count of 17 bad..._

'Err... Hi...Jere...miah?' Kurt replied, quickly snatching his sleeve from the man's grip. A woman nearby snorted loudly in their direction. That was when Kurt realised just how close he was to the older man, and quickly jumped back. 'What did you...why did you grab me?' He asked, crossing his arms before him, creating a barrier.

'You dropped this.' The man said simply, opening one hand to reveal broach nestled in his palm.

Kurt recognised it as his gold Warbler pin. The one that until lately, had been perched on his Blazer lapel for all the world to see. He leant forward, examining it closely, before grasping it in his fingers and carefully placing it into the deep heart of his pocket.

'Err...Thank you.' Kurt said, taking another step back as Jeremiah appeared to move closer. 'I should really be going now tho-'

Jeremiah suddenly leant over and grasped Kurt's hand. Kurt jumped slightly and his arm went rigid in the man's firm grip.

'Look Kurt.' Jeremiah said, gazing longingly into Kurt's panicked eyes. 'I... I would really like to get to know you, outside of this whole... job fiasco I mean...' he sighed. 'Look would you wanna, maybe get coffee with me sometime?' he asked, his whole face silently pleading with Kurt.

Kurt's first thought was to say no. (_No, oh god no. I mean look at you. You have hair like straw, a dorky nose and your name tag is spelt wrong. You are the reason I was miserable on Valentines day, you are the reason I wasted my time learning the worst song imaginable, your are the reason I am not with Blaine...wait Blaine!) _That was the turning point. What better way to make Blaine jealous.

Blaine had gone out of his way to impress this Jeremiah guy, and been thrown, (quite deservingly Kurt might add) on his ass, and told politely to bugger off. Now Jeremiah was actively pursuing Kurt, even though he himself showed no apparent interest and even insulted him on previous occasions. Even if all this 'coffee' showed was that Jeremiah was still just a tool, then fine; but maybe it could become something more, and that would piss Blaine off no end. Kurt – 1 Blaine (Mr Jerkface) - 0

'Ok, err...Yes, why not!' Kurt replied, plastering a fake smile across his face, as Jeremiahs lit up in delight.

'It's a date...so do you...wanna grab it...now?' The man queried, tilting his head.

'Don't you have...you know...your job?' Kurt pondered aloud, murmuring _not a date _under his breath. Silently praying that he wouldn't have to go right now, so he had time to gloat (coughBlainecough) before he had to reject the older man.

'No, no. Shirley will cover for me. I'm afraid I told her quite a bit about you' He let out a nervous chuckle. 'and how you saved my ass from being fired. She's quite a fan of you now, she wouldn't mind.' Jeremiah enthused.

'If your sure...'

'Absolutely.' Jeremiah nodded. Kurt smiled again, and gently removed his hand from Jeremiahs clammy grip, surreptitiously wiping sweat from it on the inside of his pocket, his fingers grazing against the golden broach as he did so.

The duo walked out the shop together, (Kurt standing several feet from the man, as he mad fervent attempts to get closer) and Kurt couldn't help but wonder, when he dropped the pin, as he was almost positive he had lost this many weeks ago. Though he didn't let his mind wonder as they heard the familiar tinkle of the coffee shop bell; signalling their 'coffee date' (_not a date)_ had begun.

* * *

><p>'So' Jeremiah began, scanning the room for anything to bring up conversation about as the pair settled down in two plush arm chairs by the window, cradling their coffees in their glove covered fingers . His eyes settled on a cake stand by the counter and his mouth opened of its own accord.<p>

'Do you like food?' he asked, immediately cringing at how stupid the question was.

'Yes, I...I do like food. I think most people do.' Kurt said, giggling quietly to himself. Jeremiah sighed yearningly. How was that boy such an angel? It was remarkable.

'This ok?' he asked after a couple of moments. Kurt nodded, and turned back to his drink. A few more, awkward attempts were made by Jeremiah to spark a conversation. All countered by a curt head gesture of a monosyllabic answer from the younger man. Eventually, the just stayed quiet.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Gently sipping their drinks, and people watching as anxious shoppers scurried down the frosted streets. Their boot clad feet leaving imprints in the ice.

Kurt shivered as the cold air bit at the exposed flesh on his neck. He pulled his scarf tautly around his neck; tucking the stray ends beneath the collar of his trench coat. Jeremiah did the same. Clearly the store's heating was acting up. A lot of other patrons were zipping up coats, or putting their winter woollies back on. The baristas had the heat of the coffee machines to keep them warm, which certainly explained how they were in just shirts, while the other occupants of the shop were bundled up like snow men.

Jeremiah watched carefully as the younger boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Trying to warm up, occasionally holding the scolding mug to his cheeks for some much needed warmth.

'Are you ok?' Jeremiah finally asked after Kurt pulled out a hat from his bag, and pulled it down over his head. Ignoring any potential damage to his hair, in favour of heat.

'I'm f-fine.' He murmured, teeth clearly chattering. 'It's just...r-rather chilly in here.'

'Is there anything I can do?' The elder man asked, leaning in close to Kurt; concern flashing in his eyes. 'Do you want my scarf or something?'

'N-no.' Kurt said, sticking his hands into the pits of his arms. Desperately seeking nonexistent heat. 'I'm fine. I've g-got my own'

'Seriously Kurt. You look really pale.' Jeremiah said, inching yet closer.

'That's m-my normal skin t-tone. It's P-porcelain.'

'No, paler than normal. I've seen you a lot, and you never looked this bad.'

Kurt shrugged off the odd, and slightly stalkerish comment in favour of getting to his feet. (and out of the elder mans reach)

'Kurt? What are you doing, you look sick!'

'I'm g-going to ask them to t-turn the he-heating up.' He replied. 'Or I m-might just drop down dead.'

'Nuh Uh.' Jeremiah called. Quickly leaping to his feet and pushing Kurt back down. 'I asked you out. I'll ask this. You sit down. I don't want you to die just yet.'

'N-no.' Kurt said adamantly, shoving Jeremiah out the way. 'It's fine. L-let me. I insist.'

Jeremiah nodded reluctantly and sat back down, watching carefully as Kurt turned his back and wondered over to the counter where the perky baristas sat gossiping together. A sly smile flitting menacingly across his features as the young boy looked away.

* * *

><p>No one noticed as the curly haired man, alone at his table began to fish around in his pocket.<p>

No one noticed as he pulled out a small pack of yellowy-white powder.

No one noticed as he poured it into the coffee mug sat before the empty seat in front of him.

No one noticed as he swirled it around, hiding the evidence as the young man who's mug it was, stood chatting by the counter.

No one noticed as a younger boy came over and joined him. Scooping up the mug with a gloved hand.

No one noticed as he took a long swill. Gulping down the scolding liquids like a parched man in the desert.

No one noticed the strange face he made at the peculiar taste of his favourite beverage.

No one noticed as his pupils began to dilate and he began to sway in his seat.

No one noticed as he entire body went limp and he slumped back in his chair.

No one noticed as the older man quickly stood up, and cradled him in his arms, smiling smugly to himself as he did so.

No one noticed as the elder man half carried the younger man out the shop, muttering something about his friend being sick.

No one noticed as he led the man over to a small silver car, parked behind The Gap.

No one noticed as he stuffed the young boy into the back seat. Not even bothering with a seat belt.

No one noticed as the car drove off, leaving no trace but tyre tracks in the frost.

No one noticed even when a blonde barista came over to the table where the pair had once sat. In search of the young boy. Only finding two half drunk mugs of coffee, still warm.

Even when her colleague came over and cleared away the mugs before wiping down the table.

The only thing that was noticed, was the little golden bird pin, lying on the dusty floor beneath the table. Gently glinting in a slither of light, cast through the window. Catching the eye of the blonde barista, who scooped it up off the floor, examining it closely before pinning it to the lapel of her uniform shirt.

No one noticed, until it was too late.


	7. Chapter 7

_Never accept rides from strangers_

* * *

><p>Kurt awoke to find his body lying awkwardly on a hard stone floor. His exposed flesh was freezing as it came into contact with the cold surface. All his outer layers had been removed and he was pretty sure all that remained was his checked dress shirt and skinny jeans. Something was around his neck, but he wasn't sure if that was his tie or a rope.<p>

He tried to move his arms to check, but found them restricted behind his back. An old rope binding them tightly, scratching and biting at his skin when he moved. His wrists were tied to his ankles; left to left, right to right. His sleeves had been torn at the cuffs, leaving red abrasions on his skin where seams had resisted before being cut.

He couldn't see anything. His eyes were covered with some dark slither of fabric, tied behind his head, snagging at his hair, sending jolts of pain through him every time he tried to turn. Even his mouth was bound shut. Something sticky, that Kurt presumed was duct tape, binding his lips together uncomfortably.

Kurt struggled to sit up, pain ebbing through his body with every slight motion he made. Once he was finally vertical, he felt his head whoosh. Everything felt cloudy, like he was suspended in water. He felt sickeningly dizzy, like he would with a hangover. Scratch that. The pounding in his head was worse than any hangover he had experienced, or had described to him by Finn or Puck.

It was agony. It felt like hundreds of drummers were positioned in every lobe of his brain. Skill fully orchestrating a symphony of pain with every beat they made. Every muscle in his body ached. He felt tight and restricted, even breathing caused him pain. Each laboured breath sending yet more jolts of agonising sensation through him.

Kurt felt his head pound and his body begin to fall back into unconsciousness. He fought it. Desperately trying to stay awake. He felt himself fall back, his spine hitting a solid object that gave a disconcerting creak as Kurt's dead weight made contact. His face pressed onto the mouldering boards of a wall. It was rotting, cold and slick and from the sound, Kurt deduced it was in fact, constructed out of wooden planks.

His mind was whirring, trying to work out where he was or why he was here. So many questions flitting throughout his brain, before settling on one final one.

_What's going to happen to me?_

That was the last thought Kurt had, before his body slipped back into a dreamless, drug induced sleep.

* * *

><p>When he awoke again, he found his blindfold had been removed. His mouth was still gagged and his limbs still bound; but at least he could see.<p>

He was right about the floor, and walls. And mostly about his clothing. All apart from one thing. Around his neck was neither a tie, nor a rope. It was in fact, a large, black leather collar. A silver tag hanging from the front. Kurt couldn't see what it read, only hear the gentle clinking it made against his top button.

His neck began to ache from straining to look down, so he sat back up again, feeling more than a little sick at the thought of the collar. (But he tried to put that out of his mind and instead surveyed his surroundings.)

He was in a small room. No more than 5 meters across and around the same distance long. The walls were rotten and dank and appeared to be an unseemly shade of beige; the floor by his feet was splattered with ominous dark patches that Kurt didn't even want to know about. There were no windows and Kurt couldn't make out a door either. Although it would be hard to see much further than a foot in the room. There was barely any light, in fact Kurt's eyes were strained just by staring at the walls.

It was eerily quiet. He could hear nothing but his own staggered breathing and the echoes of his shoes scuffing against stone. It was oddly like being in a recording booth. Alone with only the sound of yourself for company in the soundproofed room.

His mind began to swirl and Kurt had to sit back against the wall to keep from passing out yet again.

He wanted to panic. He wanted to scream and cry and beg for help. To shout so loudly his voice would echo in the heavens, to cry so much his body would dry up and to have the freak out his inner mind was having that would tear apart his remaining sanity. But he wouldn't let himself.

His parents had always stressed that keeping calm would help in every situation. Besides, what good would kicking up a ruckus do if there was nobody around to hear him. Panicking would show that something was wrong. (Something _was _wrong, who was he kidding) But that would only alert his captor to the fact he was afraid, and he didn't want to show any weakness. Even if said captor wasn't there.

But Oh God his head hurt. The drummers were back and more persistent than ever. His eye lids began to flutter and his could feel his body drooping again.

This time, he didn't struggle. The sleep was inevitable, why waste his energy fighting. He let himself slump down against the wall and as predicted, a few seconds later. His eyes closed fully and his mind slipped away.

* * *

><p>The third time he woke up, he was not alone.<p>

Directly opposite him, stood a man. Hidden mostly by shadows, with only a few features visible.

His blonde, curly hair slicked back of his face with sweat. A malicious glint in his eyes and a roll of duct tape and rope in his hands.

'Why hello Kurt.' He said, flashing the boy a victorious smirk. 'How nice of you to join me in the land of the living.'

Kurt froze. His eyes scanning the man up and down.

Oh God, Jeremiah!

Jeremiah took a step forward and winked at the cowering boy, extending his arms to touch.

'Such an Angel.' He murmured, his finger barely an inch from Kurt's cheek. He let them graze across the boys face until they reached the seam of the duct tape. In a flash the fingers had latched onto the black and ripped it from Kurt's face. Pulling several layers of skin with it. Leaving the outline of Kurt's lips a shocking shade of red as blood made its way to the surface.

Kurt winced in pain, he could taste a strong coppery tang leaking onto his tongue and feel his raw skin burn as Jeremiah's breath ghosted across it. Jeremiah simply smirked, and began to lean in. Intent on connecting his lips with Kurt's own blood stained ones in a terrifying and unwanted kiss.

Kurts eyes widned in fear. _No, this couldn't be happening, not to him. _Jeremiahs tongue slipped out, to damped his lips, leaning ever closer.

That was when panic actually set it.

Jeremiahs lips were puckered, ready for the kiss. But just as they were about to make contact, Kurt opened his mouth-

- and screamed.


	8. Chapter 8

_Don't lend strangers your personal belongings._

* * *

><p>Jeremiahs hand lunged forward and covered Kurt's mouth. Effectively silencing the boys screams.<p>

Kurt spat out and coated the man's hand in saliva whilst trying to clamp his teeth down on the skin.

'Ouch.' Jeremiah cried, snatching is fingers away and gazing down as a blood began to bead from the side of his finger where Kurt successfully nipped him.

Kurt tried to lash out again but the binds around his limbs kept him stuck on the ground as Jeremiah stood looking over him, just out of reach, scowling distastefully.

'That's no way to treat me, angel.' He said, smirking as he swung his hand out and smacked Kurt across the cheek. 'You've gotta be nice to your _master_.'

'Wh-What?' Kurt whimpered, his skin stinging and turning a vivid red when the man had struck him.

'You heard me. I'm your _master_ now, and you _will _obey me, else Kurtie may get a little hurtie' He pulled out a long silver obejct from his back pocket. The long blade glinting in the light as Jeremiah spun the knife between his fingers.

'NO.' Kurt cried. 'You can't do that to people.'

'Oh, but I can angel. Just watch me.' He gazed down at Kurt, a black lust glinting In his eyes 'I'm gonna keep you here, my little angel.' He trailed the blade along Kurt's jaw. 'And you're gonna respect me, and do my work for me and soon ...' he paused and sucked in a deep breath for dramatic effect. ' You're gonna _love _me.'

'NO' Kurt called out, hastily shuffling as far back as he could. Jeremiah just laughed as Kurt began to cry out.

'No,no,no,no,no' He whimpered. 'I will never love you. Never. I can't. I love Bla-'

He slammed his mouth shut as the words began to spill from his lips.

But it was too late. He had seen Jeremiah flinch. He had heard. _He had heard_. The damage was done.

'Oh,' Jeremiah said bitingly. 'you love Blaine do you?' An audible laugh punctuating his sentence. 'Well, that's too bad isn't it _honey_.'

He advanced towards Kurt, and leant down so Kurt could smell his rank breath and feel the warm air brushing against his cheek. His teeth dangerously close to Kurt's ear lobe.

'Because dear Blaine. Doesn't. Love. _You._ Back!' With that he licked a clean swipe around the shell of Kurt's ear before blowing a pipe of cool air onto the dampening skin.

Kurt recoiled and turned his head from the man. Shutting his eyes as tears began to pool. Jeremiah latched his fingers onto Kurt's chin and wrenched it back so he was facing the older man.

'Look at me.' He whispered. Kurt kept his eyes screwed shut.

'Look at me, you little bitch.' He barked, digging his finger nails into Kurt's skin. Kurt winced in pain as the man dug his nails in further, close to piercing the skin. They were yellowing and crusted, dirt and other grime lurking beneath the surface. Kurt felt physically repulsed. Yet he still had the impending feeling that this was probably the lightest of what was to come.

Kurt finally hissed. Opening his eyes just a fraction, to see the man smiling maliciously at him. He released Kurt's jaw and gave him a firm pat on the chin, as if to set in his punishment.

'Good little angel.' Jeremiah cooed. Kurt could feel the crescent indentations burning in his skin. 'See, If you're a good boy, you get rewarded, otherwise...' he made a jolting movement across his throat with the knife and Kurt's stomach lurched.

'Now you've opened your pretty little eyes, I won't make you bleed...' He hissed 'well... not yet.'

Kurt's eyes widened in fear and the tears were let loose and began to stream down his cheeks, leaving glistening trails in their wake.

'My f-friends, they'll look for me.' He stuttered between sobs. 'An-and my dad, and my step-mom and m-my brother. They'll come looking f-for me, when they find I'm missing. A-and you'll get c-caught, and rot in jail l-like the _Scumbag _you are.'

'I could scream, and p-people will hear. T-they'll find me. Mark my words.' Kurt spat, glaring at Jeremiah, fighting with the binds behind his back to no avail.

'Oh Kurt, Angel.' He cooed patronisingly. 'You really think that don't you.'

He spun around and stalking to the other side of the room. Hands on his hips.

'How precious.' He said, turning back to face Kurt.

'No ones gonna find you' he said, tilting his head to the side and shaking it, like he was talking to a toddler. 'This entire room is sound proof. You couldn't hear an atomic bomb if it went off by the door. Scream as much as you want my sweet, because _no one_ will hear. Only little old me and anyway... soon all you'll be screaming... _is my name.'_

Kurt blanched, feeling as if he was about to be physically sick. The mental images he was desperately trying to block out right now, were bringing the bile up into his throat.

'And don't even think about those precious little_ friends _you got. They won't even know you've gone.'

'I was due back on the coach to Dalton. The faculty will know I'm not there.' Kurt stated, trying to keep and air of superiority to his tone, but failing miserably as the sobs reeked through him.

'Well' Jeremiah said, pulling out a small black rectangle from the back pocket of his jeans where he pulled the knife from just minutes before. He pressed a button and immediately the rectangle lit up.

It was a phone.

Not just any phone, but Kurt's IPhone. The unlock button danced below a blaring photo of Kurt and his friends. Mercedes, Rachel, and Blaine. All squished in concert, faces pressed tightly together as they sat together in the Lima Bean. Kurt remembered asking the barista to take the photo of them as she came to clear away their empty mugs. He had his lips pressed to the side of Blaine's cheek in a mock pout, This was back in the days when they were still talking. (Kurt was stubborn. Blaine would have to do a lot of apologising if he wanted Kurt back.)

Kurt's eyes widened as Jeremiah unlocked the phone (_really Kurt, your password was your Dalton room number, predictable or what) _and skimmed through Kurt's messages.

'I had a lovely little conversation with some boy named Jeff!' Jeremiah stated, wondering back towards the cowering Kurt and thrusting the phone in his face.

'As you said, he did have a few questions about your 'disappearance.' But he's doesn't care now, as you can see.'

Kurt's eyes scanned the page gazing in horror at the conversation before him.

_3.22pm- Jeff: Hey Kurt bro. Where are you? Stop shopping! The coach is about to leave!_

_3.28pm- .Jeff: Kurt? Please answer your phone!_

_3.32pm- Jeff: Kurt! I'm serious, or we'll have to leave without you._

_3.37pm- Jeff: Sorry, but Dr. P said we had to leave. You can get a cab back to Dalton, really sorry man, we tried._

_4.57pm- Jeff: Hey Kurt, ths is Nck, Jff's pnckng lke hell n drppd hs phone. U hve lke 3 hrs till the gates r shut, you bttr get dwn here fst, else thy'll lock u out._

Now Kurt could see his, or more fittingly, Jeremiahs response.

_5.16pm- Kurt: Hello boys. Sorry, I got a call from my step-mom earlier. I had to rush to the hospital. She said my dad had more heart complications. I had to go visit him, sorry I couldn't tell you earlier it was an emergency. No signal inside the hospital because of the machinery. I will probably be gone for a quite while, tell the others ok? Don't worry. I'll be at home, for moral support you know? See you soon xxx_

_5.19pm- Jeff: Oh God man, we didn't know. We're so sorry. Look, try and keep us updated if you can. If not, sure, but we worry about you dude. Give your dad our best, we'll tell the staff and get your work emailed to you. Xxx– The Warblers. (and Drew from AP- Calc)_

'Then we have your other beloved boys.' Jeremiah said, going back onto the menu and showing Kurt an array of texts.

_5.21pm- Wesley: I'm so sorry Kurt. I wish you and your family all the best. Hope to see you back soon. I'll email you our set list ideas asap X_

_5.24pm- David: Gee. God, I...I don't know what to say. Just get well soon to your dad I guess. X Good luck x_

_5.19pm- Nick: I gve Jff his phone bck. We luv u man, tll ur dad get wll frm us. I snd him a virtual hug, and...anti-heart attack meds...if thy exist...ok...srry. I'll stp. Xxx Miss u already bro xxx_

The list went on, mostly from Warblers and a few other of Kurt's Dalton friends, though only one name was missing from the string of people.

_Blaine._

Jeremiah seemed to notice Kurt's observation and snorted.

'I see you saw your precious little Blaine ain't there.' Kurt nodded slightly, afraid of any impending punishment if he didn't at least give some form of reply.

The older man cackled again. 'Well, you see angel. I was reading through you and Blaine's little chats, awfully cute they were. Terribly so. I got cavities just looking at them.'

He began to read aloud as Kurt ducked his head to his chest. The texts were from the end of last month, when of course, he still had his eurasian friend to talk to.

_Blaine: Hey Kurt. How are you? It's been forever, well 2 hours. But I feel ever so lonely. Come to my dorm room and watch Mulan with me. I have popcorn, it'll be worth it x_

Jeremiah read, in a mocking tone, raising his voice by at least an octave and giving it a nasally ring.

_Kurt: Nice idea, but do you know how many calories are in popcorn xx_

_Blaine: Not enough for you not to eat it xxx_

_Kurt: Hmm, we'll see..._

_Kurt: ...You had me from Mulan. I'm in, be there in 10 xxxx_

_Blaine: Yey, I'm so happy :DDD I could jump for joy. Xxxxx_

_Kurt: Please don't you'll hit your head- wait your too small ;) ...burn xxxxxx_

_Blaine: Low blow :( low blow xxxxxxx_

_Kurt: I know, you're that tiny ;) xxxxxxxx_

_Blaine: I shall ignore that xxxxxxxxx_

_Blaine: Btw, Kiss war on :P xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

'How sickeningly sweet.' Jeremiah said. 'I just couldn't bear to write my message without your help. I could never get the voice right.' He mocked.

'Come on angel, You better help out, or we'll see how delicate your pretty little fingers are if I break them.'

Kurt whimpered .

'Let's see, how shall we start it.' Jeremiah pondered. 'I suppose _Dear Blaine_ is a given.'

He gently typed it in. Pressing each key at a teasingly slow pace. Grimy finger nails clacking loudly against the almost immaculate screen.

'Hmmm... '_So sorry I'm not at Dalton_.' That sounds ok. '_Wish I was, I miss you_.' Yes that's good, god knows you do. '_My dad had another problem with his heart, and he needs me back home for a while._' Lets add a little sad face there _':( not sure when I'll be back'_ another sad face'

He turned to Kurt and smirked, before looking back at the screen, and continuing to read aloud as he typed.

' 'b_ut don't worry. I'll be absolutely fine_. _Don't ring my house though, we won't answer and it'll wake dad.'_ How does it sound so far angel? I'm covering all the options, don't you think?'

Kurt nodded mutely, it could be interpreted either way. Thankfully Jeremiah seemed to think it was positive.

'That's good. '_Look after the boys, keep them busy_.' Hmm... '_Don't jump on furniture whilst I'm away_.' Yes... '_Miss you...again'_ and we'll finish off wish a few kisses shall we?'

He chuckled as he finished the message, turning it to Kurt, before making a huge show of pressing send.

'Now your friends won't come looking. Not now they think your with daddy-kins. And don't even think-' He started as Kurt's mind began to reel.

'I already sent your wee daddy a message. Told him Dalton was too jam packed to come home. How you needed to work, so you wouldn't answer your phone either. ' He rapped Kurt's temple with his knuckles.

'Don't even think Kurt, because I've got it all covered. You won't get out of here. Not now, not ever. And if you even try...' He loomed above Kurt's head brandashing the knife life a gun. 'I'll blow your pretty little brains out.'

Kurt began to cry again. Lowering his head to his chest as the sobs tore through him. His vision blurred and unsure as he felt a cool blade brush gently against his grazed cheek.

'They'll find me. In a few days. They'll find me. They won't fall for your tricks. They'll find me. I know.'

'Oh dear. Poor deluded soul.' Jeremiah cooed, brushing Kurt's hair back with his fingers, the knife trailing lazily on his scalp. 'You think that if you like. It just makes me think we'll have to make best use of the time we have.' He leant in and licked a long line up Kurt's jaw, savouring the salty sweetness of his skin. Only stopping when he reached Kurt's elfin ears.

'Face it angel.' He hummed, leaning across Kurt and placing a chaste kiss to the upturned tip of his nose. 'I'm the only who's ever gonna love you.'

'I'm the only person keeping you alive.'


	9. Chapter 9

Jeremiah had left shortly after the phone incident. Leaving Kurt alone, but still tied up on the dank and dirty ground. There was nothing in the room for Kurt to lie on, or to even sit down on. The only things he had to keep him warm were the clothes on his back, and an area of wall, behind which, he presumed, ran a hot pipe; up against which he spent the night.

And what a restless night it was. He wanted to sleep, yet at the same time feared the unconscious state, as it was constantly being intruded into by visions of Jeremiah. Sometimes looming above Kurt, clutching his knife. Sometimes just staring. But in the last few times Kurt drifted off, a far more disgusting and scarring sight befell him.

Jeremiah, straddling him. His body thrusting into Kurt with such a force he could feel himself being literally ripped apart. He would scream and scream but no sound would come out, no one could hear his plea's, but worst of all; No one cared. Jeremiah would laugh at him, and flashes of his family and friend's face's would dance across his vision, jaunting and sneering down at him. About how worthless he was, about how used he would be, about how no one would ever want such slutty, damaged goods. How he would never be loved. The his throat would be slit.

Kurt would awake in a cold sweat. His body trembling and his eyes crying silent tears. He couldn't scream, Jeremiah had warned him that if he tried to make a sound, he would pay the price, and Kurt really didn't want to mess with a psycho with a knife, and god knows what else, hidden away.

* * *

><p>As time went on, the mans attitude to Kurt changed. Jeremiah just sat and stared at him from across the room. Watching him with dark, unblinking eyes. He'd stare for what felt like hours, his eyes boring holes in Kurt's head. But the young boy refused to meet the man's gaze, keeping his eyes trained to the floor and focused on counting the ominous stains that littered the cold surface.<p>

Then Jeremiah would get up, and cross over to greet his angel with a kiss. Then sit down, and watch again.

The older man would gaze on, listening to Kurt's quiet whimpers, and smiling as he held up a blade to Kurt's throat, laughing in malice as the tears rolled down Kurt's cheeks. He would lean down and kiss them away, lick his salty skin clean. And even though so far, Kurt had remained almost fully clothed, he still felt he was being violated.

* * *

><p>Things began to get stranger and stranger. After every visit Jeremiah made, Kurt would be forced to gulp down a shot of thick yellow liquid, clearly drugged, so he would sleep ( At first Kurt had refused to take the drinks, spitting them out across the room whenever the foul substance reached his tongue, but then he would feel his jaw being yanked open and a cold, syrupy liquid flowing into his mouth. He would try and try to expel the foreign contaminants from his mouth, but Jeremiah would just cover his lips, pinch his nose shut and refuse to let go until all was swallowed.)<p>

The only plus side was this way he didn't have the nightmares and he didn't have to see Jeremiah as he slept. But now, every time he awoke, another presence would be in the room.

Not human, but that of a doll.

A small porcelain doll, no more than a foot high. With small and delicate features, clear blue ocean eyes with long plastic eyelashes. Each one, (by now around 4, one in each corner of the room) wore a different outfit and had its hair styled differently, but each pulled back so one could see the eyes.

They all had wings too. White, swan like wings that protruded from their shoulders, casting eerie shadows across the floor whenever the door was opened.

Kurt didn't know what they were for. Only that each ones dress code seemed to resemble something eerily similar to a life size version he had in his closet.

* * *

><p>There were more dolls, of course there were. Jeremiah had them all waiting for Kurt, just out of the room. Wrapped lovingly in blankets, their eyes staring glassily ahead. He touches them all the time, (as Kurt sleeps, he wouldn't want the boy to get jealous.) They are just so perfect. His little porcelain angels, so soft and unmarred. No one has ever laid a finger on them but him. They are pure, and oh so innocent, in the most appealing of ways. Sometimes he hugs them close, littering their pale skin with gentle caresses, feeling their nylon hair slide against his cheek, or their eyelashes flutter on his chin. Other times he just sits, and shares his space with them. They never complain, never object, never look away and never close their eyes to his love. They are grateful. He is their master and saviour, and they know this.<p>

But now he has the real thing. His real life angel, come to be rescued. The boy says he is cruel. A sick, delusional, twisted man. But Jeremiah knows the truth.

He is doing this all out of love.

He loves the boy. He knows this, and the boy knows this. They were destined to be together. Fate had their entire lives planned out, and they are to be forever entwined. He can love him so much more than that stupid boy 'Blaine' or anyone else ever could. It's just the boy doesn't believe yet.

So he will teach him. He will make him perfect, be his master and his saviour. Just like he is for his angelic dolls.

Hold a blade to Kurt's throat, and the boy is silent. Tug the boys hair, and he makes a sound. Give the boy a kiss and he whimpers deep in his throat, lick at his skin and he shudders luxuriously.

Threaten his life..., and you get almost anything...

At last, he is learning.

The boy protests. Of course he does, because he doesn't know the plan yet. And Jeremiah is not going to explain it to him. Not until the boy is entirely his. His own, personal angel.

Maybe some time spent with his dolls would teach Kurt the proper way to behave. Or else things will have to get physical.

* * *

><p>Kurt was completely losing track of time. The lack of light and electronics left Kurt alone to think for himself. He watched Jeremiah come and go, which were his only bases on which to judge how long he'd been stuck in this prison.<p>

The man would go away for long periods of time, which Kurt could only assume, were for him to go to work in. When he returned he would sit with Kurt for hours more, watching, talking, and touching. Nothing to intimate yet, but Kurt could feel it getting closer.

Every time he did something Jeremiah disagreed with, he would be punished. Taunted, sneered at and punished. Be it with a smack, a hair tug or a knife at his throat. All Kurt knew was that he better play along if he valued his life. Because, as much as this man claimed to love him, Kurt was positive if he needed to, Jeremiah would have no hesitations in actually killing him.

* * *

><p>He had been gone, for what he assumed to be, four days. (With his only movement being when he was dragged, blindfolded to the bathroom) Surely people had questions, surely people were worrying?<p>

But no.

Jeremiah had shown him. His phone inbox was empty. No texts, missed calls, voice mails, nothing, no one bothered. They left him alone, and forgotten. No one was making a fuss, asking questions, even just saying hi. And that itself was depressing Kurt.

He was alone, abandoned, With a room of dolls and an insane paedophilic man, who was either going to rape or kill him. With no plausible way of escape. His entire world was closing in on him, and the fear in his gut was tearing away at his soul.

He could only hope that his family and friends in the outside world got their act together soon, because after only four days, he could already feel himself breaking.


	10. Chapter 10

Blaine was bored. Not just bored, but miserably so. With no Kurt around to cheer him up with pithy banter, his days were becoming increasingly duller until now, where even singing was a chore.

It had been around 5 days since the terrible incident with 'Kurt and the Socks' and Blaine had heard neither hide nor hair of him. Well, unless you counted the crudely written text he received a couple of days back.

But that barely counted as communication, more as a polite message that he was in a pretty shit place at the moment, and it would be in Blaine's best interests not to contact him.

(And that itself was hurtful to Blaine, because he knew in his heart that he had really hurt his friend, and at the back of his mind, he was shooting himself in the head for being such a jerk.)

However, even that insignificant text was done in a terribly civilised way. Blaine knew Kurt, knew him better than almost anyone, and believe him when he said that when Kurt was angry there was no way he'd ever act like he did in that text.

Maybe his dad's illness was getting to him? Corrupting his usual thought patterns and distributing his hormonal rage into smaller, more manageable clumps.

Well, he could only hope so. Either that or Kurt had gone completely loopy. Because seriously, _Dear Blaine _and _I miss you _not to mention the emoticons and kisses. Those were certainly things Kurt wouldn't say, definitely not in the emotional state Blaine last saw him in.

(Which he still maintained wasn't _entirely _his fault. All he'd done was ask him to return some socks. Socks. And he'd gone all a-wire and started shoving him with his _really _sharp nails. And Kurt could hardly hold the previous week against him, because yes, the whole Jeremiah issue was a huge misjudgement and he did regret it. But he had apologised, like, as soon as he entered Kurt's room. Yet the boy still bitched him out and wasn't talking to him.)

He had sent God knows how many texts to the countertenor. Some bearing well wishes to his father, others being simple smiles or the odd courage, even though it didn't really make sense in the circumstances.

But still, no responses.

Maybe the other Warblers were having better luck getting through the Kurt.

* * *

><p>That evening, when Blaine checked into the Senior Commons for study, ticking his name off on the roll list, he decided to question his friends about Kurt's absence.<p>

Wes, David and Trent were huddled together in the far corner, all cramming over some history textbooks. Jeff, Nick and Thad were just to their right, slumped around in arm chairs, not really working, but rather hiding their headphones beneath the folds of their blazers.

The rest of the room was occupied by other students outside of the Warblers, the ones Blaine didn't really know. All of whom paid no attention as he strutted across the room towards his friends.

'Hello gentlemen.' Blaine said, plastering a glittering smile across his face. 'How are you this fine evening?'

The boys seated around the table looked up, all with matching scowls bracing their features.

'What a pleas-'

'Cut the crap Blaine.' Wes said bluntly, causing Blaine to splutter.

'I don't know what you mean' he started, adjusting his tie as surreptitiously as possible as the room seemed to get warmer.

'Last time you wore that smirk we ended up serenading some worker down at The Gap.' Wes replied.

'You are clearly after something Blaine.' David continued. 'So just cut to the chase and save us all some valuable time.'

Blaine shifted awkwardly on his feet, as the boys settled back in their seats. The other Warbler boys carefully eaves-dropping from the arm chairs.

'Well, I was wondering if...you guys had err...heard anything from errr ...Kurt...lately' Blaine murmured not meeting their gazes as an audible sigh rang out.

There were a few murmured _no's _and several hums, also in the negative.

'It's just.' Blaine continued. 'I'm getting a little worried-'

'Oh, so now you're concerned with his well being.' Nick cried, rolling his eyes as he yanked out his muted headphones.

'I don-' Blaine began, taken aback by the junior Warbler's sudden outcry, and by the eyes that were all now staring their way.

'Look Blaine.' Nick said, spinning around in his chair to glare right at the curly haired boy. 'To be honest, right now, I am still pretty damn mad at you.' Blaine opened his mouth to protest but was cut off with a pointed glare from Jeff, who was watching him over Nicks shoulder.

'You have literally crushed Kurt. And I mean tore him to pieces and spat on his dust. He was in an absolute state the other day, wouldn't tell anyone what was wrong. He could barely even go shopping. Do you have _any _idea what you did to him? You broke him. I can certainly tell you that not only do you have him to hate you now, but also those of us who are his friends, because you, Blaine Anderson, really fucked up.'

'I-'

'NO, Blaine. Don't even try to defer the blame.' Jeff said, crossing over to the others and pushing the history out of the way as his fists sat clenched on the table. 'We have _all_ noticed how Kurt feels about you. He had been doting over you since he got here, and don't even try to deny it.' He added as Blaine gave him a sceptical look. 'The only reason we even _agreed_ to help you with _The Gap Attack _is because we were all _naive_ enough to think you finally got it right with Kurt.'

'You have ruined a perfectly good friendship with whatever bullshit you have pulled on him,' Nick added. 'And to say now, after everything you put him through, that you are worried about him. That, takes some audacity.'

'But he hasn't been answering his phone at all, or replying to my texts or anything.' Blaine cried, raising the volume whenever another tried to interrupt him. 'I think I am allowed to be concerned with the well being of my bes- of my friend.'

'Blaine. His dad had a heart attack. Another one.' Wes supplied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. _'Of course_ he won't be replying. You know how he gets over family issues, hell he was practically in tears at the mention of his Dad's first. But a second. He will really be struggling.'

'We all read his message.' David said slowly. 'The best thing we can do for him right now is to let him have some alone time with his family. We're still emailing him his work, and yes, we text him every now and then, but bugging him constantly will do you no good. Especially after the emotional trauma you already put him through.'

'But' Blaine protested. 'He doesn't even sound like himself anymore. You know how stubborn he is, and as you keep insisting, I've _apparently _been a jerk to him. So then tell me why he was texting me in his usual lovey dovey style. 'He slammed his hands down on the desk. Sending stray papers flying.

'I mean he sent kisses for Christ sake. Kisses, and '_I miss you'_ and '_I wish I was at Dalton'_, and even a Goddamn smiley face.' He grunted in annoyance and began pacing.

'Blaine. You can't get mad at us. We care about Kurt as much as you do .' Jeff said.

'Maybe more so considering none of _us _left him in tears.' Nick hissed through gritted teeth.

'But we need to give him time.' Jeff repeated, shooting Nick a warning glance. 'If he hasn't contacted us by the end of the week, then we'll ring him, and make sure he's ok. Right?'

'Just...I don't know what to do ok. I'm not used to this, being without him, you know.' Blaine said, his face adopting a red tinted hue. 'I mean it was ok the first few days.' He received a violent glare from the tables occupants at that. 'But now it's just depressing. I need him guys, and I really need to know if he's ok, because right now, and after everything you said. I still feel like absolute shit.'

'His dad-' Wes started.

'If his dad had a heart attack, I need to be there for him.' Blaine cried. Ignoring the stares coming from the other students, all of whom questioning his sanity. 'He was there for me, he looked after me because he cares about me, and I need to do the same because I care ab-...oh god.'

It was as if a light bulb had sparked in his brain. The flames behind Blaine's eyes suddenly ignited and his entire body went limp.

'I need to help him. I need to... I need to..._I need him_.' Blaine finished in little more than a whisper. His face falling in realisation and his knees giving out, sending him down onto the floor in a prayer like stance.

'I need him.' Blaine said, his eyes wide and his body tremoring. 'I need _him_, I need H_im,_ I need _HIM_.' He repeated like a mantra, mentally kicking himself for his idiocy.

'Oh my God.' Blaine said, slamming his head down onto his knees as he slapped the crown of his head brutally with his hands.

'Has he?' Thad questioned, leaning over to whisper as Blaine caused a scene on the floor.

'I think he has.' Wes nodded, staring in wonder at the boy by his feet.

'Dear lord. Blaine has finally stopped being so oblivious.' Trent congratulated, eyeing the boy with a questioning eye.

'He's still a dick.' Nick murmured, avoiding looking at Blaine.

'Ssssh.' Jeff hissed, giving his a jab to the arm. 'He's having a moment. Can't you see what he's just realised ?'

'Yes' Nick agreed reluctantly, as the others stared down at Blaine, still pummling his head

'I only hope he can fix things with Kurt before it's too late.'


	11. Chapter 11

If there was one thing Burt Hummel had learnt from his 17 years as a parent, it was don't annoy your child when they're giving you the silent treatment. Well at least if your child was Kurt Hummel.

And right now he was in the midst of the longest silence from his son in one hell of a long time.

He hadn't heard from him in nearly a week, it wasn't like Kurt to go that long without family contact. But as his last message had said, he was extremely busy with school work. And, as Burt valued his own life, he didn't bug his son.

He was proud that Kurt was taking such an interest in his academics. Burt could certainly say that they were important, and the fact Kurt was going to such lengths to keep up his GPA, that was impressive. Burt had come close to flunking more times than he would care to admit, and he certainly didn't want that for his son, especially for a son with such high ambitions.

He didn't know much about the whole New York, Show- Broadway-choir stuff that Kurt kept going on about, but he knew he needed pretty damn good grades if he wanted to get anywhere in life. The standards were a lot higher than when Burt was a kid and if Kurt achieving highly meant not hearing from him for a while, then, yes, he could deal with that.

* * *

><p>Friday night dinner is a sacred event at the Hummel Hudson house. A time when the family can all sit down together, and talk. No deep meaningful conversations or lectures. Just playful banter between the tables occupants as they munch slowly on their food. Even Finn can slow down his guzzling for long enough to hold a proper conversation.<p>

Of course, as with most families, such events come with their fair share of rules. Most just being the typical, Yes you must eat everything, No you cannot eat in your room, Yes you must wear clean clothes, No you cannot have your phone at the table. The usual. But there are still the more specialised ones.

The ones that mean if you miss a meal, you're in deep trouble.

Now, Burt has had to make exceptions on previous occasions. (The Sound Of Music debacle wasn't the first time Kurt had tried to skip) But now, with his son boarding at a school at least 2 hours away, Burt is having to sacrifice more and more of his sacred Fridays.

Now instead of punishing Kurt relentlessly, for a meal he cannnot help but miss, Burt has set limits, rather than rules. This way, he doesn't stress out his own son, by making him drive for nearly 5 hours a day, just for food and he doesn't have Finn on his back about the unfairness that allows Kurt to skive.

The current limit is that each son, _must _attend at least 2 Friday night dinners a month. 3 if their are 5 Fridays that month.

And Kurt...well he's already missed his two.

(The first when both he and Finn had gone to a New Directions (or ex- as the case may be) party at Tina's house, the second, being when one of Kurt's friends, Blaine, Burt remembered, was having some sort of crisis, and Kurt had needed to stay and comfort him)

If Kurt misses this meal, then he has broken their family rules, their limits, and as a result he would have to be punished.

Normally Burt would ban him from seeing his friends in the evenings, ground him, if you will. But that's slightly harder to do when one's son is at boarding school, without the friends he would normally see anyway. So that is out of the window.

Burt thinks instead he will probably end up cutting off Kurt's credit card, or perhaps cancel his phone contract.

Burt hadn't heard any news from Kurt, about Friday, so he thought it best to prepare his threats now, so he could use them on his son if he didn't come.

And, if by removing the main ways for Kurt to contact him showed his son that communication was important, then maybe Kurt would make more effort to contact his family in the future.

How long had it been...4...5 days? Since he had heard his sons voice. Through the tiny speakers of his phone, granted, but a voice none the less.

4 days for sure since he had received that text about school work.

And 3 days without any contact at all.

Well, it's Thursday today. Kurt has 24 hours before he needs to be at the Hudmel House. Maybe he'll ring this evening. To discuss his arrival, or apologise for being so distant. Perhaps drop a text or something...anything to end the horrific silence.

Ok, so Burt said he was fine with it. He _wasn't _fine with it.

Truth be told. He was worried.

He didn't want to be. By God he didn't want to be. But for some reason his fatherly instincts were telling him to speak to his son, to hear his sons laugh, or see his smile. To confirm he was ok. To make sure he was doing well, not... over working himself.

He was positive that when Kurt showed up the next day, Carole would fuss over how thin he's gotten. (Burt knows his son. And when Kurt is busy, or stressed, he forgets to eat. Lord, He bakes and cooks enough for a banquet, but avoids the consuming of the food himself.)

Burt wants Carole to fuss though. He wants Kurt to know that his family cares for him. Tell Kurt that cutting himself off in times of strenuous work, or other difficulties, wasn't the best idea. He just wants to hug his son and tell him everything will be ok.

Because no matter how much Kurt may protest, or what his son may say. Burt knows something is off. Something is wrong.

He wants to ring Kurt. He needs to check on his son. But he doesn't want to worry him even further.

Kurt was always fussing about Burt's health. Telling him to eat this, not eat that, walk there, don't do that. In fact Burt was almost positive he'd been living off rabbit food whilst Kurt was at home.

And all because of a onetime heart attack. (Ok, it _was_ a heart attack, but ...)

If he rings Kurt, Kurt's going to get upset. And complain about his father's health. About how he's fine and dandy, all because if he says something's wrong, Burt will panic.

Well, he's panicking now, and if he wants to calm down, he needs answers. Bit where from?

Who can he speak to?

He knows for a fact that neither Finn nor Carole had heard anything from Kurt either. And ringing up one of his old Glee friends would be downright awkward.

If he rang Dalton, that could spark unnecessary questions and he doesn't really know any of Kurt's other friends.

Well, apart from one.

Blaine.

The one Kurt was always talking about. God, from what he'd heard those two were attached at the hip most of the time.

(Ok, so Burt knew the kid had gone through some hard times recently, but surely a week would be long enough to recover. After all, he wouldn't ask Blaine any difficult questions. Just maybe request that he get Kurt to ring him, and you know, tell Burt how his son is.)

Yes, that's all. Just a simple, polite check up.

Now all he needs to do is find Blaine's number, and a phone.

* * *

><p>He finds it. After only a couple minutes searching.<p>

The number is emblazed on a plastic cup lid. From some office coffee machine. A hastily scrawled name below the string of figures that constitutes Blaine's cell.

It's pinned to Kurt's cork board, right above his desk.

Next to the lid are several photos. Of boys in red blazers, smiling and laughing. The one closest to the number however, features only two people.

One Kurt, the other, a boy with dark gelled hair. His eyes glinting in the winter sun as the light bounces of the snow. The boy, Burt assumes, is Blaine.

Kurt looks ecstatic. Having the time of his life as his arms are slung around the others neck, as the boys lips press up against his cheek in a mock pout.

Far too flirtatious to be nothing, but as far as Burt is aware, there really is nothing going on between the boys...

Well not yet...

He decides to ignore the possible threat to his sons innocence and instead just keeps to the task at hand.

He pulls the pin from the lids rim, and holds it to the light, reading off the digits as he punches them into his cell phone.

* * *

><p>A moment later and the number is ringing. A slow drone of a dial tone, taking up valuable time.<p>

Burt counts them off, four...

Five...

Six...

Seven...

Eig- 'Hello?'

A chipper voice rings down the line. The sound of rambunctious laughter in the background echos after, followed by a loud hiss from the boy and a repeated greeting.

'Hello, is that Blaine?' Burt asks, his voice gruff and low, trying to being authoritative and hide his concerns.

'Err...yes. It is, to err... to whom am I speaking exactly?' The young boy questions, an uncertain tone in his voice, as if for some reason, he already knows who.

'Burt Hummel. I'm...I'm Kurt's father.'

There is a silence. Punctuated only by a sharp intake of breath and a murmured question in the back ground.

'M-Mr Hummel.' Blaine finally splutters, his voice wavering and an underlying fear coating every word. 'what a s-surprise.'

All background noise now disappears. Only a few gasps are heard and Burt already has a bad feeling.

He's not quite sure what to say to the boy. The one who is clearly now as panicked as he. So he just get's straight to the point.

'I'm calling about Kurt...'


	12. Chapter 12

_'Hello?'_

_A chipper voice rings down the line. The sound of rambunctious laughter in the background echos after, followed by a loud hiss from the boy and a repeated greeting._

_'Hello, is that Blaine?' Burt asks, his voice gruff and low, trying to being authoritative and hide his concerns._

_'Err...yes. It is, to err... to whom am I speaking exactly?' The young boy questions, an uncertain tone in his voice, as if for some reason, he already knows who._

_'Burt Hummel. I'm...I'm Kurt's father.'_

_There is a silence. Punctuated only by a sharp intake of breath and a murmured question in the back ground._

_'M-Mr Hummel.' Blaine finally splutters, his voice wavering and an underlying fear coating every word. 'what a s-surprise.'_

_All background noise now disappears. Only a few gasps are heard and Burt already has a bad feeling._

_He's not quite sure what to say to the boy. The one who is clearly now as panicked as he. So he just get's straight to the point._

_'I'm calling about Kurt...'_

* * *

><p><em>Make sure both you and your friends have emergency contact information with parents and other trusted adults, whom they can call if there are any emergencies.<em>

* * *

><p>Blaine Anderson was worried.<p>

* * *

><p>His heart stuttered at the tone of the older man's voice.<p>

Kurt, what could possibly be wrong with Kurt?

He hushed the Warbler's, whose voices were starting to sound out, with a harsh glare as he held the phone tight against his ear, struggling to make out what was being said in the noise.

'Kurt?' Blaine said slowly, causing another gasp to ring out of the momentarily silent singers. 'Is he ok, what's happened?'

'N-nothing's happened, as far as I'm aware' Burt replied, taking note of the obvious concern in the boys voice. 'It's just... well, I know you know him very well-'

Blaine hummed in a reminiscent manner

'-And I was checking on if you could help me out .'

Blaine's puzzled expression caused a couple of sniggers to emerge from the warblers, before Wes shut them up, yet again.

'Wh-what's wrong...with _him?' _Blaine questioned again, still wondering why the older man was concerned with Kurt, when he himself had just had a heart attack. But it seemed rude to bring it up now, especially as Burt was not even talking about his own health.

'He's not talking. To me, or anyone we know. We haven't heard a word from him since Sunday. And Carole and I are startin' to lose sleep. It's not like him. Not at all' Burt told Blaine, keeping his voice low and in control.

Blaine's face was etched with worry now, and he quickly waved goodbye to the Warblers as he scampered outside into the empty corridor. His only companion now, being the cool breeze of the air-con and a nice peaceful silence.

'Err...' Blaine said, training his ear to the conversation easily now 'Do you...know _why _he's not talking?' begining to pace up and down, awaiting anxiously for Burt's response. And unruly kind of dread seeping into the pits of his brain.

'Nope' He said after a moment. 'We ain't got a clue. Just one day he was speaking to us, the next he wasn't, and I was hoping you could help me with why'

Blaine again, thought back to Burt's own health. Last time, when there had even been the remotest scare for his father. (The piping of an old car, falling on his leg as he worked beneath it.) Kurt had been terrified. He completely shut down. It had taken Blaine, Wes, Nick over 3 hours of sitting and 3 movies before he even cracked a smile.

Maybe, if he was so worried about his father, Kurt was closing himself off again. Although why he would do that to the person he was caring for escaped Blaine at that time. Maybe, maybe he was only home to keep an eye on him. Maybe real communication was too difficult for him right now... To be frank, Blaine was pretty doubtful of his minds conclusions, but at the present moment his only real thoughts, were that he had to help Burt, help his friend. To show Kurt that he really did still care.

* * *

><p>Burt Hummel is worried.<p>

* * *

><p>His son isn't talking to him, and now, the one kid who he thought would know what was going on, seems as clueless as he is.<p>

'-I was hoping you could help me with why.' He says, hoping to hear a murmured agreement, or an affirmative sound, anything...anything that will end the silence from Kurt. Because, right now, even though it's only been 5 days. Burt Hummel misses his son. And he's pretty sure Kurt will be missing him.

'I'm really not sure what I can say to help Mr Hummel.' The Blaine kid says, and Burt can hear his hesitation down the line, as if he's trying not to say something. Something important.

Kurt's been silent, and at Dalton nearly a week now, surely Blaine would be aware of why, after all, he has pretty much the same school timetable, so he should be aware of any stress inducing circumstances, like Kurt mentioned, right?

'Really, no reasons at all? None ' Burt's voice is raising ever so slightly, as he tries to worm some answers out of the boy.

'Not really.'

'No reason why my own goddamn son won't say a word to me?'

'Sir-' Blaine's voice wavers

'You're meant to be his friend. Tell me why Kurt isn't talking to me.' Burt barks, his hands visibly shaking as he clutches his phone.

'Sir-' Blaine says, after brief hesitation. His voice trying to be calm, but the noticeable quiver giving away his true nerves. 'Forgive me for being blunt, Kurt isn't talking to any of us at Dalton either...'

Burt splutters.

'And personally, I can only see one reason for that...'

Burt waits.

'And that's you.'

* * *

><p>'What the hell do you mean?' The older man snaps down the phone, and Blaine jumps back, holding his cell a good foot away from his ringing ear.<p>

'Mr Hummel...as Kurt's... _friend... _I honestly think this is a natural reaction for him, considering your...predicament.' Blaine say's carefully, still not sure Burt will be comfortable talking about a traumatic experience like his heart attack.

'What do you mean 'My predicament'?' Burt questions, with a strong feeling of Déjà-Vu.

'Well...sir...'

'Spit it out Kid.'

'You- You had...a _heart attack _Mr Hummel.' Blaine says, in a tone one would use with an obnoxious toddler.

'I am aware.' Burt drawls with a weary edge. 'But why would something that happened months ago be affecting my son at this school of yours. I sent him there to get him away from the past, not so he could dwell and depress himself over it.'

'But Mr- Oh God, Wait.' Blaine all but cries out in the silence of the hall. His heart suddenly pounding with a deep, deep dread at what Kurt's father just said.

'Mr Hummel...' Blaine begins, slowly, so he can hear every last word the other says. 'Can you... please repeat... what you just said? It's... rather important.'

Burt sighs, but agrees, as even though the boy just cried out in shock, Burt knows he needs to answer him, before he will understand why.

'I said...' He replies, equally slowly and in a rather patronising tone. 'Why, should something that happened _months_ ag-'

'Months?' Blaine interupts tentatively, his voice high and frightened.

'Yes, months, the last, and only I might add, heart attack I had, was several months ago.' Burt says, with dry emphasis.

'Ohmigod.' Blaine cries, in a high, and girlish pitch. As he nearly drops the phone in horror.

'M-Mr Hummel.' He stutters, his heart rate suddenly spiking as he clutches a nearby door handle for support. 'C-can you tell me, where Kurt is right now?'

'At your damn school, where else. Can y_ou _tell me why he won't talk to me.'

'B-because...Mr Hummel...' Blaine whimpers, his body wracked with silent sobs as it goes into pure and utter distress. 'Kurt isn't at Dalton... H-he hasn't been since Sunday...an-and we were all told ...h-he was with you.'

Burt is pretty sure he's having another heart attack right now.

Because that can only mean one thing.

If Kurt isn't at school, and he isn't at home, and no one, not even his friends, have heard from him in nearly a week.

Then Burt's precious baby boy...is gone.

And right now, there is nothing he, nor Kurt's friends can do about it.

* * *

><p>In the silence that follows, a variety of emotions fill the scene...<p>

Blaine Anderson is frightened.

Burt Hummel is panicked.

And, with a large figure standing over his limp form, clutching a jagged knife firmly in his palm... Kurt Hummel... Is absolutely terrified.


	13. Chapter 13

_Say 'no' if you feel uncomfortable or threatened_

* * *

><p>His screams, go once again, unnoticed by anyone other than his captor. The knife snags at his skin, tearing the precious porcelain, leaving droplets of scarlet to fall and stain the floor. Well the ones the man above Kurt doesn't catch first...with his tongue.<p>

He's told, once again, that this is for his own good, and that he's going to learn to be a good boy, and to just look at all his china friends standing beside him. They are good, aren't they. Look at them, with their pristine skin and perfect smiles. With the clothing sewn onto them hanging with elegance and grace, with their hair immaculate and their tiny feathered wings standing proudly to attention.

And how can he expect to get away with everything that he has done without being punished, because, that scream he let out, oh dear, well that would be another segment of hair ripped from his scalp, and those whimpers, well...they weren't pleasing, so of course, the knife would be out again.

Because, how could Kurt be perfect if he kept screaming. Did he not want to please his master. The one who cares for him, and worships him, and (occasionally) feeds him and gives him shelter? Does he not want to please the one who loves him?

* * *

><p>It had been almost a week (at least Kurt presumed it had, judging by the amount of times Jeremiah had left for what Kurt imagined was his work) since he had been snatched from his family and locked away.<p>

Kurt was stuck in a never ending string of fear. Because although when Jeremiah was away, there was nothing he could do to hurt him, as soon as he returned, more dolls would join the room, and then the drinks, (with those orange fizzy pills in, that Jeremiah thought Kurt didn't notice) then the drugged up stupor that Kurt would be in, would leave the rest of an evening's details fuzzed and blurred. (Which Kurt wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for)

Things were getting much more heated with Jeremiah. His eyes filled with lust and craving whenever he watched Kurt. His pupils dilating so much he looked positively demonic. His hands would stray much further than any had before, and Kurt's body would writhe around half heartedly as the drugs kept his mind disconnected from his limbs.

The punishments were also becoming much more intense, what once would have earned him a smack, or a yank of his hair was now resulting in him being presented with a knife to his throat or his thigh or his ribs, where small gashes were starting to make their appearance. The smooth red of his blood, removed with kisses and the gashes plastered with licks.

It was positively obscene.

Kurt would find himself counting the mutilated scars running down his sides as the seconds ticked by before Jeremiahs return. He just...didn't know what to do.

Whenever Jeremiah was away, he would have his limbs tied and his mouth gagged, more often than not the blindfold would join in and Kurt would be left helpless, unable to see what was surrounding him, only knowing that on all sides were dolls, and on all sides were danger.

Because, Kurt had, when given slightly more freedom with his binds a day or so ago, scoped out the room. Observing each doll and it's position, the entrance which Jeremiah used to get in. (Some sort of elevated door a good foot or so off the ground) and all dimensions of the room, and any structural weaknesses.

After ramming his feet against each wall for a significant time, and his forehead against the door, Kurt determined that although the room he was in looked flimsy and damaged, it was fucking strong.

Re-enforced concrete or some other, equally bone breaking substance lay behind the rotting wood, and kept the structure standing tall and his screams locked within.

Each doll was positioned seemingly at random on the floor, though Kurt was pretty sure there was some sort of ludicrous pattern or symbol relating to their places. Each one stood, in exactly the same way. Back, straight as a pole, features painted in mock ecstasy and hands hanging calmly by their sides. The wings on their backs, unfolded and held out, with the tips ending up around an inch above each dolls shoulders...probably ear height if Kurt could see them past their hair.

And each was staring...Right. At. Him.

God, it was like he was in some corny horror movie.

The ones where the stupid blonde girl goes and investigates the horrible noises and the screams, without calling the police, because that's the sensible thing to do right?

The ones where the black guy Always dies first, for no apparent reason other than some directors underlying racism.

The ones where, after almost everyone dies, some tall, handsome man, comes in and saves the day, by foiling the villains plot, or attacking the monster, or shooting the killer or...just something to make the one surviving (And funnily enough, best looking) female, fall head over heels in love with him.

Yes, this was definitely like a horror movie. Minus blonde girls, black men or tall handsome hero's.

Ok, so this was nothing like that...

But for some reason Kurt wished it was.

Because in horror movies, where there are only a couple of characters...the protagonist. (In this case him) nearly always, makes it out alive.

* * *

><p>Ok. Fuck. Blaine was panicking. Like past panic attack stages more into, unconcious on the floor and 'Damn It Jeff, get this guy to fucking breath already or he's going to <em>actually <em>die.'

Yeah. That was how panicked he was right now.

* * *

><p>So it turned out that some of the Warblers had heard him crash to the ground in a faint and had come to investigate.<p>

Which was a relief.

Nick handling a startled Mr Hummel on the other end of the phone, whilst the other boys sat him up and tried to get Blaine to regain his ability to walk, which was rather difficult seeing as he had kind of...stopped breathing.

A quick punch to the back from Jeff however was enough to bring him spluttering back to life.

As a few of the Warblers crowded around Blaine, the others hung back and tried to listen in on what was being said.

'Geeze man.' David said, giving Blaine shoulder a small shake. 'You had us scared for a moment then.'

'What on earth happened Blaine?' Wes questioned his voice as level as could be, given his friend had just passed out.

Blaine glanced around the room. Wes, David and about three others were by his side, just staring at him. Jeff and Nick stood by the door, holding his phone between them, their eyes wide and glazed. The other, more junior members were lurking in the doors frame or further back, curious, but not wanting to appear so.

'I-' Blaine started, his mouth opening as if to tell more, them just falling shut again.

Wes rolled his hands, signalling for a continuation.

'You... what..?' he questioned.

'I...he...i don't-' Again, Blaine's mouth fell shut, before he could find the words.

'Blaine' David began, his eyes narrowing. 'What the -'

Before David could finish his sentence, a set of twin gasps rang out over the hall and a loud thud rang out.

Everyone, including Blaine spun around to see Jeff, clutching the phone is his palm, as the other fanned Nick who was slumped against the wall.

'Th-that was Mr Hummel.' Jeff said, to the people now staring adamantly at him and Nick. The _call ended _screen still shining from the front of Blaine's phone. 'He's an absolute mess. He can barely speak and...he just sounds so broken.'

Blaine sniffed and looked up at the pair, his eyes silently questioning them both. Jeff only nodded, and Blaine turned away.

'Turns out Kurt isn't at home at the moment...'

The boys all gave him a puzzled look.

Blaine opened his eyes to blink back tears, his body still in too much shock to stand. 'He- He...'

'He said Kurt was-' Jeff blinked quickly, trying to clear his misting vision.

'Missing' Nick finished with a wavering breath from his position on the wall. Not even opening his eyes as everyone surrounding them gasped, and a few more Warblers stumbled back into the nearest sturdy objects. 'He said Kurt's missing.'

'You- You're not serious.' Thad said, shaking his head, turning away from Blaine to stare at the speaking males . 'You- You _can't _be serious.'

'They are.' Blaine said from his position, still on the floor. His voice cracking.

'You know that... _'family crisis.' _He claimed to have...' Nick spat the words as if they were poison to his tongue

'That wasn't real.' Jeff continued, pulling Nick to his feet, and wrapping his arm around the other boys shoulders, keeping him upright. 'Mr Hummel said he- he's fine, and has been for a _long time._ That-That Kurt told him he was staying at Dalton at the moment.'

'But...' Wes said, his eyes fixated on a spot just above Jeff's head. 'Kurt hasn't been here since...'

'Saturday.' Nick finished. 'The shopping trip.'

The boy beside him nodded, his face stuck in a grimace.

'I thought he was getting a cab back...' David said in barely more than a whisper.

'We all did...' Jeff said. 'But then h-his family thing came up and ...we just left it.'

'Jeff and I seem to have been the last ones to see him.' Nick continued. 'He was with us one moment...then he left to return _Blaine's-' _He shot the shorter boy a dark glare and Blaine would later swear his teeth were bared in an animalistic way. '-socks. He went into The Gap, Me and Jeff went into Hot Topic and...'

His voice faded into nothingness, leaving the room silent, with just the harsh breathing of the boys punctuating the quiet.

'He vanished.' Jeff said in a hushed whisper.

* * *

><p>'So...' David started, a good few minutes of silence later, as he pullled Blaine roughly to his feet, ignoring the shorter boys whines of protest. 'Kurt...' He took a deep steadied breath. 'Has been <em>missing...<em>for nearly_ a week-'_

'And _none _of us...did _anything _about it.' Nick finished.

Everyone stared guiltily at the floor, shuffling around.

'We are so freaking _Useles_s.' Nick cried, ramming his face into his hands.

'Nick.' Jeff started, rubbing circles on the brunettes back. ' Hey, hey...It's ok... it's gonna be ok.'

'No it's _freaking not.' _Nick said, tears beginning to brim in his eyes. 'He's out there...and...and...we don't know where.'

'It's ok honey.' Jeff said, in a soothing a voice as he could manage in the situation. 'We'll find him, hey... to-together we can all find him. I'm sure if we all try..'

'Well. It's not exactly _our_ problem.' Came the quiet tone of one of the Sophomore warblers standing in the door way. The elder boys shot a glare in his general direction.' I mean, _we_ barely even know the gu-'

'Don't you dare say that.' Nick hissed his red rimmed eyes seeking out the speaker.

'But it's no-'

'Get the _Fuck_ out.' Nick said, pushing Jeff's arm away and storming straight towards him as the younger boy scarpered fearfully back. Jeff and David leapt forward andf grabbed Nick, holding back from the frantic boy who was seemingly terrified by the others outburst.

Nick grunted and pulled himself free from his captors arms.

'You lot.' He yelled, glaring heatedly around the room, focusing mainly however on the out spoken Warbler, trying to escape through the assembled boys. 'What the _hell_ have we been playing at? Kurt had been..._Gone_. For nearly a fucking _week _and we just sat by and...didn't _question_ it.'

'We _tried_ to contact him-' Blaine said feebly, not catching Nick eye.

'Yeah _Blaine_' Nick said icily. '_Tried_. But as you can see from the severe _lack of Kurt. _Clearly we didn't try hard enough. ...eugh...God...we're so freaking_ stupid'_

He threw up his hands in mock surrender.

'Why didn't we question this before...Kurt just disappears and we accept his little sob story...did _no one _think to even call him, or his home...or _anything _to see if he was ok.'

Everyone, once again stayed silent.

'We _should _have checked, we _should _have asked, we should have...God...he asked for space but... Jesus, we gave him too much.'

'I didn't see _you _jumping to check.' Another disgruntled sophomore cried out.

Nick spun on the spot, his eyes baring into the younger boys with rock like strength.

'You think I _don't know _that Ryan.' Nick yelled. His voice amplified down the tiled hall and echoing off the plaster walls. 'You think _I don't_ realise what I could have done. How if maybe_ I'd_ rung him, or if_ I'd_ texted him more _that I could have stopped this_. That _I _may well have been the last person to see Kurt. Maybe even the last to _see him alive_.'

The room was silent.

'You think that right now, I am not _berating _myself with all the possibilities right now. Kurt was one of _my best friends_, and right now, thanks not only to me, but to _all _of you guys too, he could be upset , or scared, or injured or fucking _dead,_ and it's all our fault. All my fault, because I could have done something...I should have done something, _we have to do something_...'

His speech stopped as his dissolved into reckless sobs. Jeff ran up to him and cradled him in his arms as Nick slumped and clung to his shirt in desperation, his tears staining the soft cotton of Jeff's collar.

'All of you.' Wes hissed to the younger boys huddled in the door, eyes popping in shock at the vulnerability their superiors now possessed. 'Out. Now. I want only the Senior Warblers...plus those of you in Kurt's dorm block in here. Got it?'

The boys all nodded, most still watching Nick who was silently sobbing, as they hurried away.

Trent sighed, and shut the door to the Warblers practise room behind him. 'Guys, I guess now may not be the right time, but...i think we should move into a room, because...well...the hall isn't really the most practical of places...' He slowed, and the others nodded. Slowly, each boy either stood, or helped pick a friend up, before manoeuvring themselves into an empty practise room. Their only thoughts being, _What the hell has happened to Kurt?_


	14. Chapter 14

It was a tight fit, the undersized room mostly filled with chairs, a piano taking up one wall and a small desk, but they managed.

Nick was still huddled in Jeff's arms as he tried to calm himself down. Blaine was at the other end of the room, moping. The other boys simply stood looking awkward as each of the three boys glared daggers at the other.

It was no secret that both Jeff and Nick were feeling strong resentment towards Blaine at the moment.

Because, not only, had he been a petty little bastard this last week, but he'd also betrayed Kurt. Using Kurt's affections for the boy for his own personal gain. Sure, he claimed to have '_realised his feelings'_ for the other boy, but right now, with Kurt now missing, both Jeff and Nick were holding this above Blaine's head.

As Wes and David perched themselves upon the piano lid, Nick shot Blaine a last glower and settled back into his seat.

* * *

><p>'Boys.' David called, over the chatter of the crowd. 'Bo...Boys?' Those still standing were making all kinds of noise as the hurried to snatch up the remaining chairs...there were about 10 boys in the room now, 6 senior warblers and the rest were younger members from back in Kurt's dormitory block.<p>

'Boys?' He tried again, feebly.

Wes sighed and leant down to slip off his shoe. David, along with most others paying attention gave him an odd look, but Wes rolled his eyes and just raised it to head height. He gave the room one last survey, eyeing each talking warbler with a tired eye. Before grimacing, and bringing the heel of the shoe slamming down onto the lid of the piano.

The sound, shut everyone up. The sound of wood on wood, loud and abrupt, not to mention the echo's of the shaken keys, their notes all emanating out together in a cacophony of sound.

'Woah.' David said, bumping fists with Wes in admiration.

'You lot decided to shut up now then?' Wes questioned, his face stuck firmly in a no nonsense glare.

The silence that followed seemed to please the Warbler, so he continued.

'Right, So...We are now, all , painstakingly aware of the predicament that has befallen our newest Warbler.' A few murmured agreements echoed in the small room. 'Kurt, as of an estimated...' he looked to Nick. ' Saturday...has not been seen by any of us. He failed to return to Dalton after the weekend outing, and cited, 'family problems.'' He signed little inverted commas with a sneer. 'As his excuse.'

David stepped in. 'Aside from a text to Warblers Nick and Jeff, we have lost all contact with Kurt.' The room nodded in unison, bar of course Blaine, who was still in shock, and moping in the far corner, behind the rest of the Warblers.

'Jeff, so you have your phone on you?' he asked, and the blonde nodded, fishing around in his pockets, before he pulled out an old Iphone, a large crack running down the side of the screen.

'Can you please read the message he sent you out, so those who haven't yet heard it can hear the evidence... Thad, can you please take notes, we need to get all our facts together.'

'It's like a freaking court case.' One of the warblers near the back said and the room chuckled along. Thad just nodded to Wes and whispered into his neighbours ear, who leant over and passed him up a messenger back, in which Thad kept his notebook. Once everyone had their things ready and had stopped laughing, Jeff began.

'Kurt sent this at 5.16pm. We sent him the first text at-' he scanned through his previous texts '-3.22, why the bus was about to leave...we sent him...4 texts after that, the last being at 4.57...which was from Nick, because...' he hesitated. 'I was having a minor panic attack.'

He looked at Wes, who smiled, understandingly.

'His text read... _Hello boys. Sorry, I got a call from my step-mom earlier. I had to rush to the hospital. She said my dad had more heart complications.'_

The room grimaced .

_'I had to go visit him, sorry I couldn't tell you earlier it was an emergency. No signal inside the hospital because of the machinery. I will probably be gone for a quite while, tell the others ok? Don't worry. I'll be at home, for moral support you know? See you soon...' _he sipped in a wavering breath, as if the air was water_ '...kiss kiss kiss'_

Nick was still staring at the floor, but his hand was clasping Jeff's tightly, as if they both feared the release. It was no secret that these boys were Kurt's best friends at Dalton. (Bar of course Blaine...but he didn't really count at the moment) They started off by just being in the same classes together, but when Kurt decided to become a flexi-boarder,(going home most weekends or some evenings when homesick) Jeff and Nick had been the ones to take him in. Their dorm block had a spare room ever since Trent became a day pupil, and so together they helped cart all of Kurt belongings up into that room. They had helped him pin up all his playbills and posters, sort out his DVDs and music collection, even change over the sheets, and ever since then, they spent pretty much all their free time together, well at least boarding wise. (Because Blaine was nice, and so was Kurt's roomie, Oran, but sometimes he needed space from them and their overpowering natures)

But now, with Kurt missing, and both boys knowing that they were the last people, from Dalton at least, to have seen him alive and well, of course they were taking this hard. It was like a blow to the stomach, because for people as loyal as Jeff and Nick, knowing that they _could _have done something to prevent this, well that was enough to bring all the blame crashing down on their shoulders.

David sighed and gave a brief sniff. 'Well, after that, I know most of us who were in the commons at the time, sent Kurt a commiseration text. Could those who sent one please raise a hand?'

All hands went up, bar those of the four more junior Warblers from Kurt's dorm, (and Blaine) who just stared guiltily at the floor.

'Ok.' Wes said, as Thad jotted down names. 'So...what happened after that?...Nick? Jeff? Anyone have anything to add?'

'Not really.' Was the general consensus around the room. 'At least not until today.'

'I mean, you two-' Flint interjected, gesturing to Wes and Jeff. '-said you'd email his work to him, and that seemed to go ok-'

'Bar the fact he didn't return anything.' Wes murmured. (Thad scribbled it down anyway)

'-and none of us really thought to push him for details or anything, you know? 'Cause Kurt's been quite a recluse when it comes to things like this, and well...I for one thought maybe...like, texting him a lot, or something, would...i don't know...make him uncomfortable, or more upset.' He bit his lip and leant his chin down to rest in his hand, propped up lazily on the table.

A moment of silence followed.

'To be perfectly honest.' Thad said. 'I think that's what we all did... I mean I sent him...what, two or three texts in total, I know some guys sent more, some less, but...pushing him...it could have been bad.'

'What? Worse than him _missing?' _Nick hissed.

'Nick I know he's missing.' Thad said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. 'But getting bitter with everyone because of it, won't help.'

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by Wes. Banging his shoe on the piano once again 'Nick.' Wes warned, ' Don't start to fight now, just listen to what others have to say, it could be important, and we need to get all our accounts together if we want to stand a hope in helping Kurt.'

Nick gave in, though reluctantly, and not without sending a few sharp gestures in Thad's direction.

'Now we've got that out the way.' David said, 'Let's try and get some stuff done.'

'Agreed.' Wes said, his eyes scanning the room. 'So...after that...insightful phone call from Mr Hummel, what exactly has happened? Bar of course Nick and Blaine's mini breakdowns '

Nick shot him a glare...Blaine continued not to pay attention.

'Well...' Thad started. 'At the moment, I think Trent's out in the hallway on the phone to the police. Although I presume Kurt's family will all probably be doing the same, so we should hopefully have no problems on that front.' The room hummed in agreement.

'We've only got the messages he sent us to go on, which suggest that he went home. The only problem being of course, that he clearly didn't...so we just need to work out what happened during that time.'

The boys were silent. Everyone in the room seemed to be in deep thought, which was of course, when Trent decided to burst into the room.

'Ok.' He cried, slipping his phone back into his pocket. 'So...the cops have some good news...' grins burst across some of the younger boys faces, naivety serving them not so well. The older boys, waited, their extra years experience. (Original CSI...) telling them all was not well. Which Trent backed up with his next statement...

'-And some not so good news.'

* * *

><p>Trent manoeuvred his way to the front of the room. (well, the area by the piano upon which Wes and David were sat)<p>

He glanced down at Thad, quickly whispering in David's ear. 'Is he taking notes?' To which David just nodded. Trent rolled his eyes, but continued.

'Ok you lot, listen up. The good news...is that Kurt's dad already rung the cops. Now they have two reports in, the case is being bumped up a notch. They are going to send some squad cars out as soon as possible, and start a search party for him.' Again, the group had a few smiles, spread amongst them as Trent recalled his conversation.

'However.' He said, grimacing. 'There are two bits of bad news here. First being that, as minors, we are unable to help the search party. Even in non school hours, and Yes, Nick I did ask, twice even.' He added as Nick opened his mouth to speak.

'The next bit of bad news, is that we should "prepare ourselves for a negative outcome." ' A few puzzled looks were sent Trent's way.

'What they mean,' he said slowly 'Is that if Kurt really did as he said, which was visit his dad, on Saturday, and he never showed up there or returned here...then they have no idea what happened when he was on his way. He could have...got lost, or broken down...'

'or crashed...' Nick said in a monotone. His eyes tearing up again.

'or...crashed.' Trent said hesitantly.. 'B-but there's many other things as well,... you know...a bit better.' He added quickly. As Jeff pulled his friend in close, rubbing soothing circles on this back,

'Apparently we should expect someone to come visit Dalton within the next few days to question us...not... that they believe we ...did something to him.' Trent supplied. 'Just...well...as I said, there are...many ...other things...'

'What do you mean Trent?' David asked, at the same time Wes cried. 'Spit it out'

' Ok...ok.' He said, holding his hand up in mock surrender. 'They also said that...Kurt may _not _have done what he said, and may be missing for entirely different reasons.'

'Like...' Thad prompted.

'Well... he could have run away.' Trent said in a terribly chipper tone. 'Wait...that's not better...that's like, worse.'

The majority of Warblers rolled their eyes. 'Sorry Nick.' Trent muttered, giving the red eyed warbler a sorrowful smile.

'But Trent's got a point.' Flint said, shooting Blaine a meaningful glance. 'I mean, judging by the bitch fight that Kurt and Blaine over there had the day before, you can sorta see why he would. No offense... dude.'

Blaine didn't even look up.

'Sure, no offense Blaine when you've essentially said it's his fault his best friend is missing.' One of the younger Warblers said. 'Because that's _bound _to make the moping sod cheer up isn't it. Nice going Flintstone'

Everyone's ooh-d and turned to look at the boy, jason, who was staring daggers at Flint.

'What did you say to me?' Flint said, turning to glare at the other boy.

'You heard me. You're just gonna make this shit worse, and I for one don't wanna be stuck here longer than I have to.'

'What's your problem dude. We're just trying to help Kurt here...stop getting at me for making a point.'

'Oh it's Kurt this Kurt that. All Blaine ever does is talk about him, you lot all fawn over him like he's some sort of magic puppy and we just get shoved to the background. Now he's missing, so lets fawn some more... Bet none of this shit would be happening if one of us had gone missing, you'd just leave it be, wouldn't you...but oh no, precious Kurtiekins must be found so we can love him and hug him and kiss him and butt fuck him.'

'Oh don't you even- You're going _down _midget.'Flint yelled as he started to stand up. Just as he was about to make a lunge for the younger boy he was pushed down by Thad, who smacked his in the chest with his notepad as Trent and some other Sophomore Warblers made a grab for Jason, who was kicking and hurling abuse at Flint, who just hurled it straight back with more fire.

'Guys. Calm the hell down.' Thad cried, waving his hands in frustration. 'We're trying to find Kurt. Who's _our- including yours Jason' _he said pointing to the young warbler_. '- friend._ Who's potentially, in a hell of a lot of trouble. Flint was just trying to say his piece and you go and spill shit like that. Stop with your petulant bitching and grow some balls. This has happened to Kurt. Not you Jason, so kindly shut the fuck and sit down.'

The room was silent... even Wes and David looked awe struck. Gradually small whistles of appreciation were heard, and a good few fist bumps were given to Thad, who continued to glare at Jason, eventually the clapping started, and Jason was as good as cheered out of the room. No one protested, and not even when the door closed behind the arrogant boy did the noise die down.

Barely anyone heard the curly haired boy start to speak. Because while the others were collecting 'evidence', one Blaine Anderson, had been searching for much more.

'Thad.' Blaine said, in little more than a whisper. 'Thad.'

The continued buzz left Blaine's speech sounding like little more than a pin drop.

'Thad.' He said, a little louder. 'Thad.'

A young boy in front of him looked back at him, puzzled.

'Can you get Thad?' Blaine asked quietly. The boy scowled, but nodded, leaning forward to tap the other on the shoulder. Thad was a little startled, but looked up. The young boy quickly whispered in his ear, and Thad's attention turned to Blaine, who just signalled him over.

Thad got up slowly, and slipped back through the chairs until he reached Blaine.

'Can I read the minutes?' Blaine asked. 'The notes you took...just quickly...i just...want to check something.'

Thad looked a little perplexed, but handed over his notepad none the less. Blaine skimmed past the sketches of roughly drawn Star Wars characters and nonsensical ramblings until he reached a _slightly _neater section. Trent's entire speech was scrawled in a box, beside which were what Wes and David had to say. But that wasn't what Blaine was interested in.

'Is this Jeff's text?' He asked Thad, pointing to a couple of lines near the top of the page. Thad nodded 'and those are who replied.' He said, directing Blaine's attention to a list of names beside it.

Blaine thanked him, but...ignored them. Focusing instead on the message Kurt sent Jeff. It all sounded fairly 'Kurt like'. Focusing mainly on his dad and the hospital...ensuring others knew he was ok...it all seemed pretty legit. The only thing, and the thing that caught Blaine's eye, were the three kisses on the end.

Kurt didn't put kisses at the end of texts. Not to guys. (Bar Blaine himself though) Because, as Kurt said, with guys you could never tell if it was serious or jokes. Yes, most Dalton guys were like that, they would put kisses on the end of most texts...but they were used to expressing emotion. After one disastrous text incident, in which Finn's (well-hidden-but-still-present) homophobia came to light, Kurt had withheld from putting kisses in his texts, choosing to avoid the awkward 'i'm straight' talks as much as possible. It was only once Blaine called him out on it, that he decided to put them in...just with Blaine.

...Just with Blaine...

Not with anyone else.

So why with Jeff?

* * *

><p>Thad was watching him curiously as Blaine read through his notes, his eyes widening more and more. Suddenly Blaine's head shot up, and he summoned Thad again.<p>

'Can you get Jeff's phone. Don't ask why...it's just...important.' Thad frowned. 'Please?'

Two minutes, and some rather awkward dialogue with Jeff later, ( 'don't ask' 'i don't know' 'yes he's crazy, but the guy knows Kurt' 'I think he may be onto something') Thad returned, phone in hand, and passed it over to Blaine. He quickly opened up Jeff's texts. Finding those from Kurt and reading each one...at least the recent ones.

_Kurt: Are you in the dorms yet?_

_Kurt: Great, come into my room a sec._

_Kurt: No! O_O Not like that. Get your mind out the gutter boy._

_Kurt: I get it. Just...shut up and get in here quick...don't even go there :P_

Then more

_Kurt: Literally can't wait till tomorrow._

_Kurt: Shoppping!_

_Kurt: it's going to be great. But you and Nick are carrying my bags._

_Kurt: Nope, no negotiations. Blaine's being a jerk again so you two will have to do. :L_

_Kurt: No, he took it a bit far this time. I can normally handle him, but this time...he was sort of gloating in my face. Had a date...yes even after the Gap Attack...and there I thought maybe I stood a chance...but hey...maybe one day eh?_

_Kurt: No, thanks, but I'll pass. I'd rather tell you the rest in person tomorrow, not by text. Spilling about my non-existent love life over the phone will hardly cheer me up. Sorry :/. But come tomorrow, I may be persuaded to talk over coffee ;)_

Blaine cringed a bit at those last messages. They hurt him to read, but they did prove his point. No kisses. Even in emotional texts of comfort...no kisses

He quickly pulled out his own phone. Scanning through until he found his own message from Kurt.

'_Dear Blaine. So sorry I'm not at Dalton. Wish I was, I miss you. My dad had another problem with his heart, and he needs me back home for a while.:( Not sure when I'll be back'. But don't worry. I'll be absolutely fine. Don't ring my house though, we won't answer and it'll wake after the boys, keep them busy. Don't jump on furniture whilst I'm away. Miss you xxx '_

Again, it was rather Kurt like. Down to the emoticons and concern for his dad, even the kisses were right.

But there was still something wrong.

It was too Kurt like. To perfect, all Kurt's little quirks there. The emoticons, the concern for his dad, even the kisses.

Kisses...

But when Kurt and Blaine last spoke, Kurt was livid. No way would he ever text Blaine like this after a row, no way in hell.

So why had he?

Blaine eyes went wide, and his jaw slack. He stopped breathing momentarily as his heart began to pound, his pulse so strong it could be felt in his cheeks.

'Wes.' He cried hasitly, 'WES!'

The rooms occupants stopped and turned to stare at Blaine, who was now standing, brandishing his phone and Thad's notebook in the air.

'What is it Blaine?' Wes questioned, and air of shock in his tone.

'You've been emailing Kurt his work, right?'

The boy nodded.

'Have you got any responses?'

'No...'

'Ok, so that means wherever Kurt is, he must have his phone, but no computer.' Blaine said to himself, quickly scanning through his own text again

'Wha-' Wes started

'I got a text from him too.' Blaine interupted, waving his phone about. 'Quite a while after you lot, around four in the morning the following day'

'I don't-'

'Two things about that.' Blaine continued. 'One, if Kurt _had_ been going to see his dad then, he would have arrived long ago and sent the text when he first arrived. He said contacting him would disturb his dad, so knowing him, he would have sent the message, the turned his phone off and gone to see his dad, so the timing is completely off. Two. Kurt is never up that late. Never, not in all the time I've known him, and not that I've ever been told. Hell, he can barely even stay awake past two. No exceptions. So why would he text then?'

'Blaine you're making no sense.' Wes said. 'Kurt didn't even go home.'

'Exactly, so why would he text us to say he was, but not text at appropriate times for being _at _home?'

'I-' David tried.

'-And why would he tell his dad he was at Dalton?'

'What?' At least half the room said.

'He told his dad he was staying at Dalton. That's why his dad didn't question sooner.'

'But-'

'Nick, Jeff. What are the main rules of horror movies?' Blaine said quickly, cutting off Thad, who looked rather put out.

'I...' they started, trailing of in slight confusion.

'Now!' Blaine insisted.

'Umm... The black guy dies first?' Nick tried.

'Have crappy lighting?' Jeff offered

'The murder scene must either be really spooky, or the most happy place ever?'

'The hot one survives?'

'No, no, no...all true but no.' Blaine said. 'Keep going.'

'Umm..'

'I...'

'The...'

'No one must know something's wrong 'till the killer first strikes?' Jeff said finally.

'Exactly.' Blaine cried 'No one must know something's wrong. So...why did Kurt text us and his dad different things?'

'So we wouldn't know something was wrong.' Wes stated. 'but we knew that already Blaine.'

'But here's where it get's interesting.' Blaine said, holding out both his and Jeff's phones. 'Here are the messages we last received from Kurt. What is wrong?'

No one could answer, murmurs and whispers circled the room, but all came to no avail, that was until Nick spotted it.

'The kisses!' he cried.

'Exactly.' There are kisses in both texts. 'He never puts kisses in texts to anyone but me, but on that day he was mad at me. So why did he put kisses?'

'So you would think nothing was wrong?' Flint suggested

'Yes Flint, but still no. ' Blaine said exasperatedly. 'Because it was those kisses that showed something was wrong. If Kurt was trying to show _nothing_ was wrong, he would have been plain, and to the point. No kisses or 'I miss you's' because he has too much pride to add those after a row.'

'then-'

'But someone who didn't _know_ we'd had a row, would think that would be _just_ the right thing to say to not draw attention to a problem.'

'Blaine.' Nick said, his voice weakened and confused. 'What are you getting at?'

'I don't think Kurt's crashed. Or got lost, or broke down _or _run away.'

A silence.

'I think Kurt's been kidnapped!'


	15. Chapter 15

_~Keep a good track of time. (If you're late, people worry.)~_

* * *

><p>All things considered, Kurt Hummel was not doing too great.<p>

Ok well that was an understatement. His entire predicament reeked of 'fucking-screwed' but he tried not to think about that at the moment.

* * *

><p>It was 7 days.<p>

7 days since he had proper human contact, 7 days since he had seen his family, 7 days since he had seen his friends.

8 days however...since his fight with Blaine...

Stupid Blaine. With his stupid good looks, and his stupid talent, and his stupid personality, and his stupid...stupid...stupid everything.

This was all his fault. Kurt decided that morning. It was all, his fault, every last smidgen of blame belonged to Blaine Fredrick Anderson and if Kurt ever got out of here, then he would sure a shell make that known.

Because, who essentially introduced Kurt to Jeremiah? Blaine.

Who essentially told him the Jeremiah was a fantastic guy and he would be lucky to have his attention? Blaine.

Who asked him to return the socks? Blaine

Who made him so mad he went in without caution? Blaine

Who went on a date and made him jealous enough to agree to coffee? Blaine

Blaine. Blaine Blaine. Blaine. BLAINE!

* * *

><p>It was 8 days... turns out blaming someone else for everything doesn't miraculous make things better.<p>

Was it bad that Kurt felt some trace of dissapointment that it hadn't?

* * *

><p>It was 9 days.<p>

The dreams were getting worse. Drugged until he passed out. That was how he slept now. And all he could think of while asleep was of Jeremiah. His narrow eyes, his wondering gaze, his cold, unwanted touch. All of it. And it gave way to worse realities.

Today Jeremiah brought out a gun.

Kurt had cried for almost 2 hours straight, before it became physically painful to do so, and before Jeremiah had pointed the gun to his head and told him down right, to shut up.

* * *

><p>It was 10 days.<p>

Something about the gun terrified Kurt. Terrified him more than the threats, or the knife, or the dolls, or anything else in that Jeremiah possessed.

Maybe it was because he wasn't afraid to use it? He shot the wall once already, and didn't even flinch (whereas Kurt screamed)

Maybe it was because he swung it round with such gay-abandon. (No pun intended) (And funnily enough also the reason he shot the wall. Turns out spinning a loaded pistol around on your finger isn't a good idea, because sometimes...and Kurt can tell you this for certain...said finger might accidently press the trigger and shoot something... namely the spot exactly 7 inches to the right of Kurt's arm.)

Maybe it was just because it was a gun, and it had the potential to kill him at any second.

Because that was scary.

And until you are actually in that situation, you will never understand just how scary it actually is.

* * *

><p>It was 11 days.<p>

And here was all Kurt had managed to work out.

The collar around his neck needed to be washed, it was sweaty and sticky and smelt. Kurt was pretty sure there was a rash forming on his neck, and it made him feel ill to think about.

Jeremiah was very, very good at tying knots. No matter how hard he struggles, the binds around his hands and feet just won't come loose.

He's now been tied to a hook in the wall too. Giving him only a metre or so to move, because Jeremiah doesn't like it when he can move. Jeremiah doesn't like any form of freedom at all.

The dolls, are creepier than previously thought. Each one now looks almost exactly like him, and it's scaring the hell out of him. It's only the wings separating the likeness now.

There are 27 visible wounds on his body...well that he can see at least. Ranging from long jagged knife wounds down his chest to bloody friction burns from the rope, and Kurt has cried over every one.

Jeremiah was due back any minute.

He was absolutely, most definitely, 100% positive...that there was no way out.

* * *

><p>It was 7 days.<p>

8 since he'd been the world's biggest jerk and fucked up everything, and 7 since his best friend and now love interest had gone missing.

Blaine Fredrick Anderson was an idiot. He knew this. In fact, pretty much everyone at Dalton knew this.

What happened to Kurt was _all _his fault.

This... he also knew.

* * *

><p>It was 8 days.<p>

Somehow Blaine found he was disappointed that accepting the blame hadn't somehow fixed everything. It did in story books...why not now?

Oh yeah...

* * *

><p>It was 9 days.<p>

The police came to Dalton today.

All the Warblers and those closest to Kurt were called down to the lecture room and questioned as a group, then individually.

All the other students, at least those who didn't know what happened to Kurt, were whispering and pointing, as boy after boy was escorted to a private room by a police officer, clad in complete uniform, badge glinting, somehow making everyone they walked with look guilty.

4 people cried. Nick, Jeff, Kurt's room mate, Oran and finally Blaine himself.

During his interview he broke down and said it was all his fault. Explaining the fight and how he made Kurt so mad, and what an idiot he was.

The policeman just grimaced and awkwardly patted his back and nudged a box of tissues across the desk to Blaine, who took a handful and began to ungracefully remove the snot and tears from his face as the officer told him it wasn't his fault and that it was 'All gonna be ok'

Then he voiced his concerns for kidnapping.

Apparently they had, 'No reason to suspect Mr. Hummel may be the subject of foul play, though it was of course a possibility.' And that they'd 'look into it.'

Jeff's father was involved with the defence industry, and thus worked alongside the police rather regularly. So when Blaine told this to the Warblers in their next meeting, Jeff pulled Blaine aside and basically told him that meant almost nothing, and that a 'We'll look into it.' Was essentially a 'No chance.'

Blaine had cried again. Having become much more open with his emotions the past few days, and Jeff found himself comforting the crying boy as he soaked a dark circle into the starched fabric of his shirt.

* * *

><p>It was 10 days.<p>

A huge stroke of luck revealed that one of the Freshman Warblers, a gangly blonde boy by the name of Oscar, lived two doors down from a policeman and his wife.

After Oscar's mother sent over some strategically timed 'goodwill cookies', she managed to worm out some information about Kurt's case.

(His mother having now become their cookie baring Messiah)

The police had apparently been searching Westerville's shopping centre for the past few days. Going into stores and asking for accounts and security footage.

Kurt had of course, showed up on an awful lot of cameras. His keen shopping eye meaning he had perused almost every shop window at least once and entered a few stores themselves.

However, it seemed the last account came from the checkout girl at the Gap. Who saw Kurt returning some socks, (a wince from Blaine) and then he left.

The police were in the process of extracting the stores CCTV that day, the Junior manager (another wince from Blaine) was in charge of giving the police the correct ones.

* * *

><p>It was 11 days.<p>

Blaine was fed up.

He was sure he was right.

Kidnapping was the only option.

Why couldn't anyone else see?

Only Nick and Jeff, and one or two other Warblers seemed to in anyway agree with him.

He had a free afternoon tomorrow, so did Jeff and Nick (who still wasn't talking much to Blaine, but screw that)

Damn the police.

He was going down to Westerville and searching himself.

* * *

><p>It was 7 days.<p>

A week since his precious son had gone.

Burt Hummel couldn't bring himself to go to work.

The police came to interview him today.

He almost broke down. If they noticed, they didn't comment.

Burt was thankful.

* * *

><p>It was 8 days.<p>

Carol forced him up this morning. Citing that it was 'what Kurt would have wanted.'

How the hell would she know what Kurt had wanted, she'd only known the boy a year.

The sudden ferocious outburst of his mind shocked him. He decided to go to work that day. Maybe he could yell at his employees rather than his wife.

* * *

><p>It was 9 days.<p>

The police went to Dalton today. Burt wondered what Kurt's friends would be doing.

Would they be upset, panicked, and frightened for Kurt, like himself. Would they be doing ok, and getting on with their lives, would they not care.

Bad feelings towards prep school boys began to emerge.

Burt grabbed a beer, the TV remote, and spent the next four hours screaming at the screen.

* * *

><p>It was 10 days.<p>

Kurt's last recorded moments were discovered today. Supposedly The Gap,... then gone. It was possible that he went to the coffee shop, but they didn't have security cameras, and the baristas where all completely useless and couldn't remember.

But after that...no one knew anything. The would be getting the footage from The Gap later that evening. Burt knew this, because he'd insisted on it being handed over today, and the police officer working with him. A weedy chap named Carlson, was petrified of the beefier man.

Their junior manager...Jeremy something... was sorting it all out now, they had spoken on the phone.

Burt didn't trust him.

Carlson thought Burt was an idiot.

* * *

><p>It was 11 days.<p>

Jeremy-kid had nothing. He showed the police Kurt returning the socks. Then the last shot they had was of him walking towards the exit, before the footage ended.

Bastard.

That meant no decent leads for Kurt.

Which meant from now on, it was just a man hunt and a question of time.

A look at all the buses, taxi's and trains begun.

* * *

><p>It was 7,8,9,10 days.<p>

Jeremiah was losing count.

All he knew was that he was the luckiest man on earth.

He had his own porcelain angel.

A _real life angel_.

And it was all his. All he could ever wish for. And there it was. His to hear and see and smell and _touch _and _taste._

And boy did Kurt taste delicious. He would constantly litter the boys cheeks and lips with kisses. He had learnt not to protest now, which was good.

A little kiss to the mouth and a swipe of Jeremiah's tongue and suddenly his angel would part his perfect lips and let said tongue slip inside. Tasting and exploring every part of his divine mouth. The remnants of whatever his master had fed him, still ripe and flavoursome, mixed with a subtle sweetness that was so very Kurt. So very his.

Jeremiah's touches had become more daring too. No longer could he settle with calm and gentle caresses and above the hip love. He needed more. _Craved More._

Kurt...protested yes. But Jeremiah knew he would.

Because Kurt was so innocent. So pure. He had never been touched like this. Never seen like this. He was so untainted.

So beautiful.

So..._HIS._

He needed to be trained, to learn the touch, to learn to love it, to learn to crave it, just as Jeremiah himself craved to be the one touching.

Bit by bit. That was how he would do it. He would start in Kurt's drug induced sleep. Carefully pulling down Kurt's pants, inch by tantalising inch, until his boxer briefs were fully revealed, and the pants waist band caught on the binds by his angels feet.

Then he would stare. Watch as the briefs shrunk back in the biting cold. His finger would trace along the seams, and dance across the skin and the edges of the tight fabric.

Then they would slip beneath...feeling the coarse hair beneath the pads of his fingers. Feeling the surge of warmth from beneath his angels skin, feel the dips and rises.

Never looking, just feeling.

He had all the time in the world to look. Why waste that now, while he could be touching. Besides...his angel didn't need to be drugged to look.

* * *

><p>Gun.<p>

It seemed like a good idea. To help him gain more control.

The bullet hole next to his angel...that was...a mistake. He didn't mean to shoot, it just happened.

But it terrified his angel more than the knife ever had.

That was good.

He could use that.

* * *

><p>The police came to his work today.<p>

He put on a show smile, the one he used with Blaine.

It was attractive, self empowering, and didn't make him look guilty, at least he liked to believe.

Mr Hummel sounded vicious down the phone.

Good job he wouldn't have to deal with him again.

He wondered about telling Kurt he'd spoken to his father.

Probably not...he didn't need to be reminded of others. He and his master where all that mattered now.

He gave them the footage. Honestly he did...just...not all of it.

He may have...left out one or two parts...they were on the next tape...but...the police didn't need to know that. Besides...Kurt just looked like he was leaving the store, so of course. Why would they presume anything happened on his way out. He was heading to the left side door. So he would head left.

The fact Jeremiah intervened and dragged him off for coffee. They wouldn't suspect. Why would they.

And the camera round the back of the store, where Jeremiah's car was parked. Well...that footage may have gone missing...but no one needed to know.

Besides, the police hadn't said...couldn't say, but it didn't seem like they suspected anything. They hadn't even looked.

He was safe.

Kurt however.

...He wasn't.

* * *

><p>It was 11 days.<p>

Jeremiah checked.

After all. Today was a very very _Very_ important day.

Today he found the a match.

THE match.

The perfect match.

The doll that his angel matched so unbelievably perfectly, that one would think it was custom made.

It wasn't.

That was the point.

That was the _whole entire point_.

Kurt. _His angel_, was the one who matched _his dolls_. He was the living embodiment of _everything Jeremiah loved_ about them.

His porcelain skin, his shining hair, his pointed ears, his _gorgeous eyes_...

He was perfect.

Well, expect the wings.

But that could be easily fixed...


	16. Chapter 16

_~ Amber Alert-~_

* * *

><p>Dylan Gregory sat behind his desk, skimming through his notes one last time.<p>

It was one of those days. Where the news was about as interesting as a cabbage. They tended to just brief him on the stories before he started, then the auto-cue would tell him the details. That was why the news casters wore such strange expressions. This was all news to them too.

As he got closer to the mid section of his notes, a highlighted section caught his eye.

_Kurt E. Hummel, Lima Ohio. Missing Persons. Amber Alert_

He tilted his head as he began to read more carefully into the segment.

He was a student at Dalton Academy over in Westerville. Seventeen years old. Eighteen on May 27th. Looking at the attached photo he didn't look that old, the slight pudge on his cheeks making him appear much younger. A paedophiles dream.

The attached report didn't contain too much information. Just some more about his life, where he lived, his family and what they believed happened.

Abduction. From Westerville Mall. 2 and a half weeks ago.

* * *

><p>Robert Sterling, a high executive of one of the state's (if the not the country's) largest security and technology firms. Father to Jeff Sterling. He had connections. Really good connections.<p>

He knew a woman, who was able to get his son, Jeff a $70,000 car for his sweet 16...for free.

He knew a man, who was able to get him his $1,200,000 manor on the east coast for less than half the price.

He knew a woman, who was able to get him into all the political dinners, even inviting him once to a state dinner with Obama.

He knew a man, who gave him and his family a never ending supply of Apple gadgets.

But most importantly...

He knew a man...who was able to get the Kurt Hummel cased bumped up to Amber Alert within two days.

His son Jeff just had to mention his friend Kurt was missing and Robert jumped on the case. Immediately questioning Jeff over the nature of Kurt's disappearance. What happened, when, where, et cetera.

It was however, when Jeff mentioned a comment his friend Blaine had made, about abduction, that he became really sucked in.

He quickly found that the Hummel case fitted nearly all criteria needed to meet the requirements for an Amber Alert to be launched.

A call from Robert to The Ohio State Police... Then The Missing Persons registrar and finally to his secretary to get the News Stations on board... and The Kurt Hummel case was going to be one of the most widely reported alerts in the region.

* * *

><p>Amber Alert: Criteria 2011.<p>

The person(s) missing are 17 years of age or under.

There is sufficient information to provide citizens and law enforcement officials with an accurate account of what happened and allow them to help locate said person(s)

There is a large proportional belief that the person(s) has been abducted.

There is a high belief that the person(s) abducted may be in danger of serious injury... or _death._

* * *

><p>Dylan straightened his tie one last time as the director counted down from 5 on his fingers, flashing a wink and a pair of goofy thumbs up as the light went red and a large <em>On Air <em>sign lit up.

'Good evening.' Dylan said. Keeping his voice slow and even. Staring the camera dead on.

'Tonight-'

The show's theme tune, a hard hitting instrumental piece perfectly accompaniment for the news blasted through speakers around the studio as Dylan began to read the auto-cue

'-Lima is rocked by the disappearance of 17 year old Kurt Hummel from a mall in Westerville' An image of Kurt, smiling widely with his dad outside a garage somewhere flashed across the screen, zooming in close to focus on Kurt's eyes and his smile.

'And the latest businesses to be hit by the recession...'

* * *

><p>Blaine came walking slowly back into the study hall, his feet slow and deliberate as he slipped his phone back into his blazer pocket.<p>

'That was Mr. Hummel.' He told an anxiously awaiting Nick and Jeff.

'He said Kurt's been moved up to Amber Alert. Apparently your dad-' He turned to face Jeff. '-got in touch with the police and they bumped his case. So...he wants to say err... thanks. They news stations came round to his house today and made a short film for the show. It should be on later tonight if we want to watch'

Jeff and Nick just nodded and gestured for Blaine to join them at their table.

'They've err...still got no leads...I mean, the police can't actually tell Mr. Hummel anything because he could be a suspect but-'

Both Nick and Jeff gave a disgusted retch at the knowledge that Burt was _still _called a suspect, when they had first heard, Burt was in near hysterics and it had been Finn who had had to call Blaine. (Whom everyone in the Hummel-Hudson home seemed to think was dating Kurt...he hadn't actually corrected them yet...but still) Apparently some parents have been known to arrange 'kidnappings' to exploit money from broadcasters and charities. A few years back an English girl called Shannon was taken by her Uncle and hidden under his bed whilst the mother managed to con thousands of pounds out of the public for search efforts. (Of course, Burt would never do such a thing, but apparently some jerk-ass police man thought he would...so he'd been arrested, questioned, given restraints on his travel and expenses and essentially told that he could no longer be kept 100% in the know about his son's disappearance.)

'-he's found out what he can. Apparently they now have 24 hour search parties out scouting and a trace is being put on all his communications, like Kurt's phone et cetera. Because they never actually found it...and his email and stuff like that, in case he or the kidnapper tries to make contact. They also want to try some DNA tracing...don't know how...but that's a thing.'

'So...what happens now?' Nick questioned, shuffling his notes around on the desk.

'I don't know really.' Blaine said honestly. 'There's not much we can do now. Not with practically every cop in Ohio on the case.'

'Hardly every-' Nick began.

'Details details.' Blaine said with a wave of his hand. 'All I know is that there isn't really anything we can do that would be of great assistance. He's on Amber Alert and they finally listened to us about his abduction...so we've done our part.'

'What happened to Mr. I-want-to-search-the-land-myself? I liked that guy.' Jeff joked, giving Blaine's hand a light prod.

'Yeah.' Nick added, albeit far more seriously 'He actually cared about our fri-'

'Don't you dare.' Blaine said, his voice dropping dangerously low in seconds. 'Don't you _dare _say I don't care about Kurt. Hell, this is practically my fault and I am trying to do whatever I can to get him home safe. You think I don't want him back. He's my best friend.'

'Then why did you say there's nothing we can do?'

'Because there isn't, Nick. There isn't. If every cop out there still can't find a lead, what makes you think 3 school boys from Westerville can? Huh? Because there isn't much chance of that, is there.' Blaine's voice had gone from angry to distraught and by now he was simply staring down at the desk.

'I'm sorry...I Just...there must be something.' Nick said, his voice dropping to a nervous whisper, 'I don't want to feel like I've done nothing.'

'You haven't.' Blaine said, his tone quieting too. 'You've done as much as you could. It's time to leave it to the professionals now. We just need to let them do their job and bring Kurt back.'

'Can we-'

'Nick.' Blaine warned.

'Just one trip to Westerville...just one, for... closure on our involvement...please?'

'Nick!'

'Please!'

Blaine looked uneasily to Jeff, who just shrugged.

'Eugh fine. One trip. But then we've got to back out, else we'll just do more harm than good.'

* * *

><p>Dylan watched the autocue change to the next story. The one he was reading earlier.<p>

'Kurt Hummel. A 17 year old student from Lima was abducted from Westerville City Mall on Saturday the 19th of February. Hummel, who is currently attending Dalton Academy for Boys, was last seen in The Gap store before he reportedly disappeared.'

Some grainy black and white CCTV footage showed up on the screen. Snapshots of a boy, presumably Kurt. Entering the gap and heading over to the cashier.

'Last seen by his fellow students in the early afternoon, Hummel is believed to have been abducted.'

Dylan's gut clenched horribly.

* * *

><p>'See Nick, I told you.' Blaine said, as they made their way into the coffee shop just down from The Gap. 'There is nothing we can do. I mean, you saw the posters. '<p>

'Every single window.' Jeff murmured, the image of his friends face burned into his retinas.

'If there is this much awareness of Kurt's disappearance then everyone should be doing there bit, we've done ours now... I'd love to help more, I really would. I pray to be the one who finds him safe and sound...but honestly...what more is there for us to do?'

The other boys just hummed in agreement. At first they had been anxious to check every store for signs of Kurt, or anywhere he could have been. In the first few places they asked some workers , anxious to hear if any had seen him. But just received the same steely glare everywhere they went.

All workers having been questioned already, and with some preppy teenage boys asking them yet again...a petulant sigh and monosyllabic response was the most either boy had been presented with.

Blaine shuffled forward in the queue, eyeing the menu above the counter. The _Loved Up_ Valentine's specials no longer on the board, a simple flower boarder and _Spring Selections _now replacing it.

'What are you boys having?' he asked as they approached the front.

'Umm...Soy Latte Please.' Jeff replied.

'Same for me.' Nick said, his eyes drifting to the screen in the corner of the coffee shop, where the news was currently playing. The other boys vision followed soon after.

* * *

><p>'An Amber Alert has been launched and anyone with any information regarding the whereabouts of Mr Hummel is urged to contact police immediately. All sources will remain strictly confidential.'<p>

A telephone number ran across the bottom of the screen as the news readers face appeared briefly again before it jumped to a video.

'Burt Hummel, Kurt's father, had this to say.'

Burt and Carole were sitting on the couch in their living room. Both gazing woefully into the camera.

'Kurt's a great kid. He gets good grades, a perfect student, he's...he's my world. He spent much of his life being bullied and beaten down, and now he's been taken from everyone he loves. He doesn't deserve this... no one does.' He paused, his eyes red rimmed and the beginnings of tears starting to pool in his eyes. 'Please, somebody, anybody...whoever has him...please...bring him home. Bring my son home'

* * *

><p>'Umm...two Soy Lattes and umm...' Blaine started once they reached the front of the line. His eyes were still watching the screen.<p>

'Medium drip right?' Jeff said, turning to face Blaine.

'No.' The other mumbled 'I drank that with Kurt...memories, you know?'

'And umm...a hot chocolate with whipped cream thanks.' He finished, turning to face the barista.

Blaine froze.

'Ok cutie.' She replied, flashing a dazzling smile.

Blaine didn't respond. He didn't even notice.

Blaine didn't notice the not so subtle wink the barista then sent his way as she made up their drinks.

Neither did he notice her scrawling her number across the side of his cup.

He didn't notice the way she was eyes were blatantly eye fucking him on the spot as she slid the drinks over to him.

Or the sniggering boys to his right.

He didn't notice the woman behind him call for him to get a move on.

Or the light above his head flicker briefly.

He didn't feel the prod to his side, or the hot beverage he seemed to have picked up, as it started to burn his finger tips.

He didn't notice any of these things because his entire focus was on the lapel of the baristas shirt.

Where there was, a small, golden pin, in the shape of a bird.

Which, Blaine knew, matched the one his blazer also sported.

And the one Wes, and David, and Thad, and Nick and Jeff, and _every single _Warbler possessed.

A quick run through in his mind told him that none of the Warblers were missing theirs in the last meeting. (Yes, he observed things like that)

He blinked. Then blinked again. Willing his eyes to refocus and reveal a different badge. A different pin, anything other than what he saw.

Once again, he ignored the woman shouting at him, and just leant forward, examining closely. The barista stepped back, suddenly not so keen on the young boy and his seeming advances. 'What are you doing?' She asked, quickly holding a tray up to cover her chest. (Please, as if Blaine would be looking there) 'I-' Blaine faltered, and just continued to stare at the badge.

'What you looking at, creep.'

Nick eyed Blaine suspiciously, and was about to step in and apologise, when Blaine grabbed him roughly by the arm, and pulled the taller boy in front of him, and pointed straight at the woman's collar.

'Blaine I-' Nick started, before he too, noticed the badge. He instinctively looked down at his own, then at Jeff's, then at Blaine's.

'Stop staring at me.'

They _all _had their pins.

And he knew the other warblers did too.

Which meant...

'Madam' Nick said slowly, raising his gaze to look the barista directly in the eye. 'I need you to tell me _exactly, _where you got that badge.'


	17. Chapter 17

_~Always tell the truth~_

* * *

><p><em>'Madam' Nick said slowly, raising his gaze to look the barista directly in the eye. 'I need you to tell me exactly, where you got that badge.'<em>

'What are you talking about?' The barista said, taking a step back and frowning.

'That badge. The one on your lapel, the golden bird. Where did you get it?' Nick reiterated.

'That's none of your business. It's my badge, not yours, take your drinks and-'

'Oh, but I'll think you'll find it is our business.' Jeff said, interrupting the woman with a malicious glint in his eye . 'You see, that badge, does not in fact belong to you. It is property of Dalton Academy. Specifically a musical group at Dalton Academy.'

'I don't know what you mean.' The woman said, her eyes seemingly scanning the room for an escape.

'Oh but you do madam.' Jeff said with a smirk. 'If you would care to look at our blazers, you can see all three of us possess this badge. It is an exclusive badge designed by a former pupil of Dalton, and issued to all members of the schools A-capella singing group. That badge is not yours. I can phone my school and prove it if you'd like... but...unless you want me to report you for theft, you should cooperate and tell me exactly how _you..._got _it'_

* * *

><p>Half an hour later and the three boys and the barista were all seated round a small table just across from the TV.<p>

The boys had all finished their drinks, and had waited patiently for the barista to get off shift before they questioned her. ( 'We've had the police here already, they didn't question me... thank god, but I'd like to avoid them coming back. So if you want to talk...fine...but you'll have to wait')

But it was definitely worth the wait, because if that badge meant what they thought it did, then Kurt didn't go where the cops thought he did. He came here.

* * *

><p>'Ok, first things first.' Jeff said, clasping his hands together in front of him. 'What's your name? Because I'd feel really rude addressing you as coffee lady or alike.'<p>

'Eleanor.' She replied slowly. 'I'm Eleanor, but you ain't getting my second name.'

'Thats fine. Nice to meet you Eleanor.' Jeff replied, extending a hand to shake hers. 'I'm Jeff, and these are my friends Nick and Blaine.' He gestured to the respective boys when she didn't accept his shake.

'As you probably gathered from us bombarding you earlier, we're from Dalton Academy.'

She nodded.

'We don't want to worry you.' Nick said quickly, noticing a strange look in her eyes as she watched the boys. 'It's just...that badge.'

'It's very important' Blaine interupted. 'Our friend...umm...well...'

'We can address that later Blaine.' Jeff said, casting a cautious eye over his friend. 'For now, we just need you... Eleanor.' He turned back to the Barista. '-to tell us where you acquired that badge.'

* * *

><p>'I guess you'd say I'm a temp.' She said. 'I just cover peoples shifts, all part time. I do whatever they need me to do. Serve, clean, wash the bathrooms, whatever...'<p>

'A couple of weeks back I guess...I was covering cleaning duty for Tracy who was off sick...Mono or something, stupid woman I never-'

'The badge...' Nick said, raising an eyebrow. 'Please.'

' Right, yes...the badge... Well I was covering for Tracy.'

'We know.'

'Patience... and It was coming to the end of my shift and I was just coming out to clear one of the last tables and I saw this lying on the ground beneath a chair. It was pretty, so I picked it up, fairly clean too, it obviously hadn't been there long... so I had no objections in pinning it to my uniform, like the TGI Fridays people do, you know? Need to Jazz it up somehow eh?.' She joked.

'Right.' Jeff said 'So...umm...had anything, odd happened that day. Something that...I don't know... caught your eye?'

'Why all the interest?' She questioned. 'What are you after?'

'_Nothing_ Mam' Blaine said, exasperatedly. 'Just...answer the question...please.'

She rolled her eyes.

'Well, not really. As I said, I'm just part time, so I was only there that afternoon, everything seemed pretty normal, nothing...caught my eye as you say.'

'Damn.' Nick hissed.

'Ok.' Blaine said, ignoring Nick. 'Thank you, just...can you remember who was sitting at the table? You know, before you found the pin?'

'I...' she hesitated, racking her brain for the memory. 'Umm...a guy I think. Maybe two...there were two drinks left...two half full drinks at that ...so I presume two people...yeah definitely two...I remember...two...'

'Do you know what they looked like?' Nick questioned hurriedly.

'Err... not...not really...one...quite tall, skinny...I-...brunette I think...the other...more blondey-brown and curly hair...a little taller, a little older too I'd say. Quite familiar but I don't know where from. They were all wrapped up. ...it was so damn freezing, I can see why... I'm afraid I remember the clothes more than the people though'

'Could you please describe the clothes then. We just need any identification we can get. And no.' He said just as she opened her mouth to speak. 'We're not mobsters or thieving hooligans, we just need to know who was sitting here and who dropped the badge, it's very important...our friend...you know?'

'Well...The blondey-one was in a trench coat like thing, with a big thick scarf...like the green one's in The Gap window.' She hummed lightly in thought. 'The younger guy...I think he was in a trench coat too...yes... Blue...but much nicer though. It had the most beautiful trim, all gold and shimmering...oh and his scarf...it was divine. Red and Navy knitted stripes, with an interweaving gold. To Die For!'

'Kurt.' Blaine whispered to Nick as Jeff smiled with Eleanor. 'That's Kurt's scarf. He got it at Christmas because he said it matched the uniform, and that trench, I was with him when he got that. It was definitely Kurt.'

Nick fought to hold in his squeal.

'Thank you so much madam.' Nick said, quickly standing and extending an arm to shake her hand. 'I think we know the brunette, he's our friend who lost the badge.'

'That's err...that's fine.' She replied as Nick shook her hand vigorously. 'You can err...have the badge back,...it's not mine now It's found its owner and all.'

'Thank you.' Nick repeated as the woman unpinned the badge and handed it over to him. 'We really do appreciate it, I'm sure he will too.'

'One last thing...' Blaine said, standing up too. 'Can you tell us anything else, anything at all, about the other man? Just for the record.'

'I-...not really.' She said, a frown on her face. 'Sorry.'

Blaine sighed.

'That's fine...Thanks Eleanor.'

All the boys gathered their things together and prepared to face the outside winds. The shop was mostly empty now and the last few drags of people were slowly getting ready to leave too.

Eleanor had walked off and was now leaning on the counter talking to a colleague, who was waving her arms animatedly. Nick was still extremely excitable and was practically spinning on his feet as they walked.

Just as the three boys reached the door they heard a shout. 'Boys. Dalton kids. Oi.'

They turned as Eleanor ran over to them, weaving in and out the chairs.

'Sorry...I just wanted to tell you something. ' They waited as she paused for breath. 'I know why the blondey guy was familiar. He works at the Gap. Katie over there recognises him... Jeremy I think...we're not quite sure but that's all she can remember...'

'Thanks Eleanor.' Jeff said, smiling at her even though he was still a little confused. 'That's great.' Afterwards quietly whispering 'Jeremy?' to Nick.

'You're welcome.' She said, grinning back. 'And hey if you and your friend ever want coffee, just ask for me...it'll be on the house...what with me having his badge and...no police and all.'

They smiled. But then it hit one of them and suddenly Blaine froze.

'Jeremy.'

* * *

><p>'So who was your friend?' the Barista questioned as Blaine began whispering frantically.<p>

* * *

><p>' Jeremy...The Gap Scarf I-...'<p>

* * *

><p>'It's not important.' Jeff stated quickly.<p>

'No really. If I inconvenienced him then I would at least like to know who he is so I can apologise-'

* * *

><p>'Oh My God.'<p>

* * *

><p>'No really...It's not important...now he's got his badge back..it's all fine'<p>

'Please?'

* * *

><p>'Kurt..Oh...Oh god...Kurt...in the Gap...I-...I-Jeremy...Jeremiah!'<p>

* * *

><p>'I'm not going to do anything sinister, it's just...now you've interrogated I'd like to know who he is...you could at least tell me.'<p>

'Fine...his names-'

* * *

><p>'I- Oh my god. Oh My God. Oh...FUCK!'<p>

* * *

><p>'Blaine.' Nick cried as Blaine suddenly went hurtling out of the doors to the coffee shop. 'Holy shit...what was- I...what the hell was that?'<p>

'Geeze, that kid has problems.' Eleanor said as Nick turned and sprinted after him.

'It's nothing really...' Jeff said bobbing on his toes.

'No...geeze...he just runs off screaming 'Fuck' and I'm expected to think that was nothing. I am trying to be decent, and I get that in return.'

'It's not you really I-' Jeff's gaze kept darting between his vanishing friends and the barista. 'Look...Umm...well I've really got to go right now...but I-'

'Just go!' Eleanor said, an indignant expression gracing her face.

'Thank you.' Jeff said, turning to leave. 'Oh...and my friends name...'

'Yes?' Eleanor asked as Jeff tugged opened the door.

'He's...'

'Yes?'

' He's Kurt Hummel.'

With that the door swung shut, Jeff disappeared into the street and Eleanor's jaw dropped.


	18. Chapter 18

'I am going to _kill _that fucking bastard.' Blaine hissed. 'Fucking stupid mother fucking-'

Blaine dashed across the street, his shoes slipping on the thin layer of ice coating the ground. He skidded slightly as he tried to stop in front of The Gap, waving his arms in an embarrassing attempt to slow down.

After an overshot of several feet, Blaine managed to make it through the door.

He began to search the store, looking behind every rail, every stand, in every corner of the poorly decorated room. He even scared some poor shopper as he ripped back the curtain in the dressing room. After a brief cry of '_sorry'_ he hurtled straight past more startled shoppers and over to the cashiers desk.

The woman behind it was fairly short in stature, with dyed blonde hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. Her name tag polished to perfection with _Shirleyxx _written immaculately in pink marker with matching swirls surrounding it.

Blaine stopped in front of her, panting slightly. There was thankfully no one queuing so Blaine just received confused looks rather than angry ones for jumping the line. He raised his eyes to meet the woman.

'Is Jeremiah her- Ooooff'

'Blainers!' Shirley cried, leaning across the counter to pull Blaine into a tight embrace. 'Your back, it's been a while.'

Blaine quickly wriggled free and straightened out his uniform. 'Yeah...err...Hey...' He glanced down to eye her name tag. '...Shirley... I-'

'Last time I saw you, you were acting all lovey puppy over Jezza. Cute as hell I might add. Shame he didn't like the song...' She leant in close, whispering in Blaine's ear. 'You can still get me alone...if you know what I mean.' She blew a stream of warm air across his skin and licked her lips in an apparently seductive manner.

Blaine simply shuddered. 'No...thankyou...I- No. Sorry...Look I'm actually kind of busy so if you could just tell me where-'

'I honestly never thought you'd come back. I mean that was pretty darn humiliating ...you did look a little desperate hun, though the back flips were pretty sweet.'

'Can you-'

'Although... I preferred your Asian friend to the flipper, he was hot. Is he single? Because if your still saying no, I'm sure he'd love to get all up in this and-'

'Please I-'

'-With his hands, and then-'

'I need to find J-...Shirley?'

'..-10 inches long.'

'Wha- SHIRLEY.'

'Hey...quiet Blainers, this is a store...you gotta lower the volume in here.'

'EUGH...Just...shut up... please.'

'That's no way to treat a lady.'

'Lady. Pfft.'

'What was that?'

'Nothing...I just wanted to ask you where J-'

'Blaine. There you are!.' Came the loud voice of Nick who was running across the store towards him. 'Jesus man, you can't just run off like that. You gave us one hell of a shock. Give a guy some warning next time you're gonna pull a stunt like that.'

'Oh My Lord. Can everyone just please Shut the FUCK Up!' Blaine yelled, causing some scowls and angry slurs to come his way.

Nick and Shirley stood stock still, looking slightly shell shocked at Blaine's outburst.

'I am trying to solve a fucking kidnapping and all you can do is talk...blah blah freaking blah. Please...just _shut up._'

No one said a word, too shocked to properly form any articulate words other than 'guh.'

'Look. Ok...now you're listening...Shirley...I need you to go and get Jeremiah. I need to have some serious words with him.'

'Blaine.' Nick hissed, looking around before leaning in. 'What the hell man? Just because Kurt's gone doesn't mean you can run off and-'

'Shut _Up_. Nick.' Blaine glared. He turned to face Shirley again. 'Please!'

'No can do honey. Sorry.'

'Wha-why not. This is really important, he can't avoid this he-'

'He doesn't work here anymore sweets. He left just after the police came questioning. Handed over the security tapes along with his leave. Such a shame...just when that little 'angel' of his saved his job, he goes and quits.'

'I- What? Why the hell did he leave?' Blaine scowled, his voice still a little too loud.

'I'm not too sure to be honest, he said personal reasons...but given what I know about Jezza...it could be anything really.'

Blaine grunted in annoyance. 'Ok, could you try and be a little more specific... because I am trying to work something out and the answers you're giving me are too vague to do anything with.'

'Well I'm sorry Oh High and Mighty Blaine, it's not like you ever make mistakes...oh wait...yeah, you sang to my friend in an overcrowded mall in Ohio, publicly outing him and causing him to nearly get the sack...or did that just _slip _your mind?'

Nick just watched the argument in quiet amusement. Blaine was clearly frustrated and Shirley was deliberately winding him up. Nick would have been laughing by now were he not too distracted by Blaine's previous actions.

'Ok you two.' Nick said, moving to stand in between the arguing pair, pulling Blaine back. 'Blaine. You ran over here in one hell of a hurry, so why don't you explain what the hell is going on eh?'

'Yeah Blainers.' Shirley said, smirking.

'Quiet please madam.' Nick said, raising a hand to silence Shirley, who scowled back at Nick.

'Yeah Shirley.' Blaine said in an equally snarky manner. Nick shot Blaine a sharp glare in response and Blaine gulped.'Ok...so that guy. The one the barista was talking about.'

'Yes?'

'He was Jeremiah. I recognised the description.'

'Wait? Seriously?' Nick said, stepping back a little in surprise.

'I spent a month of my life obsessing over that man, I'm sure, it was definitely him.'

'I Don't-'

'I just need to find Jere-' A loud cry was heard, which was funnily enough, when Jeff appeared. Awkwardly power walking through the store, trying to ignore the further stares.

'There you guys are.' He cried, eyeing his two friends as he surged forwards. 'How did I know you'd come here?'

'Jeff please.' Nick tried, but Jeff was having none of it.

'No, Nick. You just made an absolute fool out of all of us. Eleanor now thinks we're all a bunch of freaks _and_ she has every reason to think so. You do _not _run out of cafe's screaming '_Fuck', _Blaine. You don't do that at all. Ever. And you Nick, just running off with no explanation after him...Eugh. you two are so exasperating.'

'Shut up Jeff.' Nick hissed. 'Blaine's actually onto something...and it's not stupid.'

'Well call the press' Jeff said, raising his hands ton head height. 'Blaine's being sensible, i'm sure the world would love to hear about this rare phenomenon.'

'Fuck You.' Blaine started. 'Just-'

'Shut up Jeff.' Nick said, giving his friend a sharp prod. 'This is actually important.' Jeff staggered back.

'Just-' Blaine tried again

'Yes, well alot of things are important right now not to mention-'

'Just-'

'SHUT UP.' Everyone spun around to see Shirley, leaning across the counter with slits for eyes and steam practically pouring out of her ears. 'All of you, just _shut up_.'

Silence reigned across the store as the remaining few shoppers edged away from the confrontation.

'You all good now?' She asked, eyeing both Nick and Jeff who each cowered and gave a somewhat nervous nod. 'Good...Blainers, you were saying-'

'Ok...so...as I was going to say' Jeff rolled his eyes. Blaine ignored him. 'Kurt came in to the Gap to return a pair of socks that I bought when I was trying to impress Jeremiah. He was absolutely furious with me before hand and to be honest I think he would do anything to piss me off. What if he went with Jeremiah to the coffee place to...I don't know...get me back for being a jerk...and then Jeremiah ... maybe...took him, as revenge for me humiliating him. Or something? That's...It just...I just have this horrible feeling that I'm right ok? So just roll with me here.'

He turned back to Shirley, who was eyeing the boys, no longer with frustration but with a completely baffled expression.

'Shirley, did you understand any of what I just said?'

'Nope sweet cheeks. Not one bit.'

Blaine half moaned in exasperation. 'Ok, so about 2 and a bit weeks ago my friend Kurt came in here to return a pair of socks. Right?'

'Uh huh. Got that bit.'

'Good...well after that, as I'm sure you know, a teenage boy went missing.'

'Yeah. I know. We had the police come and question us all, very freaky mind-'

'Well that boy was Kurt. After he came in here he went completely off radar and hasn't been seen. We believe...well, I believe...that Jeremiah might know something he's not telling us...because it seems that Kurt was actually last seen with him down the street, not in this store...so look just tell me if you saw Kurt that day and we can move on.' Shirley simply rolled her eyes in response

'Do you remember him at all?' Nick queried.

'This is a store, boys. We have hundreds of customers a day, I doubt one kid with socks is gonna stick in my mind.'

'Umm...he's about 5 ft 10...maybe...like light brunette hair and was wearing a big trench with gold trimming.' Nick added, gazing hopefully at Shirley

'Still nothing.'

'Umm...wait, hang on, I have a picture on my phone.' Blaine pulled his messenger bag from his shoulders and dumped in unceremoniously on the counter. He began to root through it, occasionally pulling out some miscellaneous object like a glove or Chapstick.

He eventually retrieved a slightly tattered Iphone, in a sleek maroon case. A couple of seconds later and he was skimming through pictures, searching for one ideally of just Kurt. (All seemed to be of Kurt and him pulling strange faces in school, so they weren't much use) Eventually, after a minute or so of searching, he found one of Kurt from a month or so back. The day after they returned from the Christmas break. He had been showing Blaine his new watch and the smile on his face was so wide and enrapturing that Blaine felt obligated to snap a picture.

He rubbed down the screen with his sleeve before handing over his phone to Shirley. A desperate twitch at the corner of his mouth.

She looked down at the picture, taking in all the details. Her eyebrows furrowing slightly in concentration when all of a sudden recognition flashed across her face.

'Oh I Know this kid.' She said, smiling. 'Yeah, I know him very well, and you were probably right about him being with Jezza, Blaine.' If she saw the boys confused expressions she ignored them.

'That boy there. That's Jeremiahs 'Angel'.'


	19. Chapter 19

_~Don't let people touch you if you feel uncomfortable~_

* * *

><p>Jeremiah was home a lot more now.<p>

Kurt had noticed, well, when he wasn't forced into another drug induced haze he noticed. There were no longer the periods of freedom during the day. Jeremiah didn't explain, he just sat and stared. Waiting for Kurt's 'medicine' to kick in and for Kurt's eyes to roll to the back of his head as his body slumped to the floor.

It wasn't pretty.

Another thing Kurt observed was the lack of new dolls joining the room. The legion of porcelain figures seemed to be complete and continued to sit around the room, staring at Kurt. He wasn't sure whether to be glad there were no more dolls, or scared. Because along with the lack of new figures, came a lack of sanity from his capture.

Every day, the smile on Jeremiahs face would become wider, his sneer deeper and his tone seedier. His hair had long since forgone a sanitary wash, and was now being slicked back by natural grease rather than product. His skin was oily and had taken on a wax like texture, sliding across Kurt's skin with a slick trail left behind.

It was repulsive.

The gleam in his eye became brighter and brighter and Kurt found himself being drugged for longer and longer. Far longer than he was awake, and then when he was awake he would find himself more and more undressed. The same shirt he'd been wearing for days, dirty, stained and hanging off his lanky frame. The zipper to his pants poorly re-zipped and the elastic of his boxers slightly folded, hanging just below his jutting hip bones in a poorly made haste to pull them up.

Kurt shuddered to think about what was happening while he was unconscious. The first time he'd noticed he'd vomited. The smell was still there, repulsive and foul, making Kurt's stomach turn with every intake of breath.

The smell of puke, of course, not being the only scent there; sweat and dirt, dust and damp, rotting wood and stagnant breath, the smell of dried blood, strong and hanging in the air as an ever present reminder of what happened to the boy when he misbehaved.

Just the thought of anymore, made Kurt want to cry; did make him cry. But the tears encouraged Jeremiah. Made him crawl over and kiss them away, made him caress Kurt's cheek with gentle touches, make him stroke through Kurt's hair with rough tipped fingers but worst, it made Jeremiah speak.

He'd tell Kurt how he'd been watching him. How he'd watched him from the Gap as he wondered around town, chatting amicably with his friends. How beautiful he was and how much Jeremiah wanted him. How now he had him. Kurt would always try and pretend to be asleep during those times despite the fact that all he wanted to do was to vomit and kick and flail and scream at the sick bastard to shut up, just shut up.

Kurt tried to pretend the sticky substance on the floor and his pants wasn't what he knew it was. He hoped it was food or vomit or even blood, anything other than what the smell gave it away as.

It was at times like this when Kurt would swear he vomited up more food than Jeremiah could force into him. His daily toilet breaks mostly spent dry heaving into the toilet bowl with his hands tied and blindfolded. Kurt knew he had to travel for these. Once a day he would be detached from the wall, given all the bindings he had had upon his arrival here, and would proceed to be let out the room. Kurt was pretty sure they went outside if the cool breeze he felt ruffle his hair meant anything. The slightly soft texture to the ground added to his suspicions.

He tried to scream and cry out for help the first few times. But then the knife...or the gun would come out. And the drinks...and then the drowsiness...and then...then Kurt didn't want to think.

* * *

><p>Angel was so beautiful.<p>

So absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, that Jeremiah couldn't hold out for much longer.

It had been three weeks; three absolutely marvellous weeks. And now that he didn't need to work anymore ...he had all the time he needed.

Angel was a good boy now. He did what he was told. The dolls taught him...the gun may have helped a little, but it was his little porcelain family who truly influenced him...Jeremiah was sure.

His little angel was near perfect now. His match was ready. He even had the clothes for his angel ready and waiting.

Nearly everything was perfect; he just needed a couple more days...

* * *

><p>Jeremiah was up to something. Kurt could feel it.<p>

He saw him caressing the face of the doll closest to him. It was eerie...the way he spoke to them. As if they were real people. And every time he spoke to _that_ doll he repeated the phrase to Kurt.

He kept eyeing the porcelain figures back too; where two white wings stood proudly to attention. He would fold the wings behind the dolls back, and stroke them down, the pull them out and ruffle the feathers around. Repeating the process ten-fold, and watching Kurt all the while.

The knife was back more as well. Not the gun so much...but that didn't mean Kurt was any less scared. The edge of the blade would tease him with every movement, daring him to run away, daring him to resist and flee.

* * *

><p>It was late at night. That much Kurt knew. He felt the cold, damp air seep in as Jeremiah entered the room. The man glided across the room, his shoes squeaking on the hard floor. His eyes were bright and vibrant, seemingly glowing in the dark. His toothy grin made shivers run down Kurt's spine.<p>

The sudden beam of a flash light caught Kurt's attention. As the shaft of light swung round to face him, Kurt found himself squishing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the blinding ray.

Through the red hue of his eye lids Kurt could make out a large shadow. It was Jeremiah.

'I know.' The older man said; smiling fondly down at blinded Kurt, extending a grubby palm to stroke the young boy's hair. 'I know what you are.'

'I-... please don- what? 'Kurt trembled, trying to open his eyes, but the light stung too much.

'There's no need to fear...I know. I'm not going to hurt you.' Kurt scoffed. 'I am going to make you so happy angel' he leant foward in an attempt to kiss the young boy.

'Don't touch me.' Kurt hissed, trying to slither out of the older man's grasp.

'Now now Angel. This is no time to be making enemies.' Jeremiah said, recoiling but still smirking at Kurt. 'I just want to help you.'

'Then let me go.' Kurt said, forcing out the last word with slight aggression 'Get _off_ me and let _me go_.'

'Oh my dear, dear Angel...I can do one better.' Jeremiah said, running the pad of his thumb along Kurt's jaw. 'I'm going to set you free.'

Kurt froze. 'What?'

'I know what you are. And I know how to save you. I'm going to release you from this form, set you free of your human binds.'

'WHAT?' Kurt cried, regaining his motor skills and pulling back, the rope around his wrists digging in deep as he hurtled back.

'You're and Angel; A Fallen-Angel.' Jeremiah stated just moving closer to Kurt as the boy continued to try and shift away. 'You fell from heaven, lost to the earth, away from your home. You fell because of human sin and misguided intentions. I know all about you. I know it's true.'

Kurt opened his eyes despite the blinding light and tried to spot Jeremiah. Spot any sign of what was happening.

'You're mad.' He cried, ignoring his forming headache. 'You sick fuck...you're ma-' He was shaking his arms violently, trying to get free.

'Don't try and pretend angel.' Jeremiah said leaning close and pressing his lips to the shell of Kurt's ear. 'In this form I am your master. You will obey me.' One of his hands slid up Kurt's side and a slick finger hooked underneath the rim of Kurt's collar. Tugging slightly and pulling Kurt flush into Jeremiah's body.

'I watched you.' He whispered, the tip of his tongue swiping at the lobe of the younger boys ear. 'I watched you and I knew it was my _duty _to save you; to return you to heaven. All my life I waited for you. You will be my ticket to heaven...where we can live together.'

'All I need to do is show an act of true love my Angel. I have it all planned out, you won't need to wait long; we just show true love and then you shall be _free_ and we can live in paradise _forever_.'

'What the _fuck' _Kurt half screamed, his voice shrill and high-pitched. 'That...You...It doesn't make sense. I'm not an Angel. Let Me GO. I'm NOT an Angel' He writhed and shook, begging and pleading for the ropes to come loose; for them to slip off, and give him a chance to escape. 'I'M NOT AN ANGEL'

'Don't LIE to me.' Jeremiah snapped, back handing Kurt across the cheek with a venomous swipe. Kurt shot back, a stinging sensation pulsing through his skin.

'I know it's you. I know you are my Angel. I KNOW. You CAN'T lie to me.' He slid across the floor and grabbed hold of the figurine he was toying with earlier. 'These.' Jeremiah said, gesturing with the wingtip of the doll in his hand, to the remaining figures around the room. 'These are the Heaven Sent. These are your brothers.'

Kurt was shaking by this point, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and not from the pain of the slap.

'They represent the Fallen Angels. They represent you. For years I searched...I had my dolls, my pieces of heaven... and they were perfect. I could save them...I have saved them...because they did what they were told ...but I knew I had to find the real Angel...And I did...I found you. And you were the Angel...You were the one that was destined to love me...you were the one I was destined to save.'

Kurt's sobs were getting louder, the mucus forming in his throat making it difficult for the boy to even breathe.

'But I needed to be sure...I needed to find your Heaven Sent so I could be sure you were the one. And I found it. I found your perfect match.' He held out the doll in his hand, pressing it up so that the course fabric on the figures chest rubbed paifully against Kurt's nose. 'It's you, I know it's you. And I finally brought you two together. And it will all be perfect.'

'I trained you. So you could return to heaven. I made you behave and obey, you are a good boy now and the Angels will be proud. They will praise me when I return you... they will praise me and my love for you. My love that returned you to them.'

'It will all be _perfect_.' He cried; throwing his head back as a rough laugh coursed from his throat, shaking Kurt to the very core.

Suddenly the laugh stopped. And Jeremiah froze.

'_Will_ be perfect...I'm not quite finished yet.' The corners of his mouth turned back up into a sneer. 'You see...they look like you. They have your eyes, your hair...you beautiful complexion...and once I saw you, they even acquired your clothes...'

Jeremiah paused, surveying Kurt with a scrutinizing gaze. 'But you don't look just like them...not yet...and you can't return to heaven looking like that...looking still human.'

He raised his eyebrows and grinned, yellowed teeth glinting in the glow of the flash light.

As Kurt watched, he saw a long shadow appear to the man's side. A curved edge attached to a more cylindrical like block...clutched in Jeremiah's ha- Oh God, it was the knife...

Kurt trembled and quivered. His eyes still pained by the light, and tears making what he could see blurry, but there was no mistaking the object in his captors grasp.

'If you're going to get into heaven.' He said, bringing the knife closer and closer to Kurt, until it brushed against the fabric of his open shirt. 'You need to look like your true self.'

He hooked the knife under the loose shoulder of his shirt, letting it snag and tear. He began to draw the knife down so it gently sliced through the fabric, eventually letting the entire sleeve fall free from Kurt's body. 'You need to look like an Angel.'

He smiled and moved the blade to the other arm, mimicking his earlier actions until the remaining part of Kurt's shirt fell away; leaving him shivering and topless.

'And everyone knows that Angel's have wings.' He said, grabbing hold of Kurt's shaking form with a steady grip, and twisting his body around so his back was facing his captor. He raised up his hand, the one holding the knife, and moved it so the cold metal rested in between Kurt's shoulder blades, the younger boy flinching at the contact.

He traced the blade back and forth, from side to side, over Kurt's back in invisible patterns before he spoke. 'So how can you look like an angel...' he paused the movements, blowing a jet of warm air onto Kurt's naked spine before kissing the boys back gently.

'When you don't have your wings yet?' He chuckled; then with a final sneer, closed his eyes, pressed the blade into Kurt's skin and began to carve.


	20. Chapter 20

Jeremiah gazed on wantonly as the blade sliced through the teen's skin. His Angel's screams like a melody to his ears...It pained him to hear his angel so sad, but the thought of what was to come made this all _so _worthwhile.

The blood danced along his angel's skin as it bubbled up from the freshly made cuts. He was entranced by it. The deep crimson began to feather out on the skin as it spread; creating a perfect contrast to the alabaster canvas that was the young boys back.

His angel...He was truly an angel now.

The cuts on his back were beautiful. They shone and sparkled, the red liquid gleamed in the light of the torch. A pink hue had taken residence on the boy's skin around each groove, blending the red and white together like paint on a page.

Each line had a purpose, each slit a meaning, each groove had reason.

They made his wings. He had his wings.

They looked like his dolls wings did when they were folded back. Each individually carved feather looked just like those of the heaven sent. It was perfect.

He couldn't have his real wings...not yet. He would get those when he ascended to heaven; but these...these where his pass-way. A way to show the other angels that he was one of them...A way for his wings to escape, a way for them to melt through the skin, through the grooves, to meld together with his angels very being and emerge in all their splendid glory.

Every so often he would have to scold his angel. If he thrashed about to much then his carving wouldn't work. It wouldn't be perfect. He couldn't have that. He needed it to work. So for every movement that caused the wings to go wrong, Angel would have the collar around his neck tightened and a lock of his hair sliced off; watching each individual fibre of his once prefect tresses falling to the ground certainly worked before.

He ignored his angel's screams; the shrill shrieks for mercy and of pain only acting as his soundtrack as he set back to work; this time digging the blade in further as he worked meticulously on this little piece of heaven. He drew the blade across his skin like a pencil on paper, tracing patterns only he knew with all the care and delicacy of an artist; His perfect canvas bearing witness to his new creation; his own personal gateways to glory.

These thoughts kept repeating as he worked. Making sure each tiny detail was perfect; cleaning away the warm blood with his tongue whenever it threatened to cover a piece of his masterpiece; pressing supposedly soothing kisses along the teen's shoulders whenever the cries of agony became too strong. He would whisper sweet nothings as he worked, never stopping, never pausing, always cutting.

He couldn't waste time. He didn't have long. The police were out to find him and his angel. He watched the news; he knew they were coming... He couldn't let them. He couldn't let them stop this. It needed to happen. It was _destined _to happen.

* * *

><p>His tongue traced along the final groove, cleaning away the clotting crimson. His masterpiece was complete. The wings looked magnificent. He couldn't wait until the real ones emerged.<p>

Though of course, this wouldn't happen yet, but it would still be a spectacle...a spectacle without screams too.

For now, the cries had ceased. His angel had passed out after about 10 minutes, the presumed pain probably being too much for him, or maybe it was blood loss, perhaps the tightness of the collar was preventing enough air getting into his lungs. How it happened didn't really matter, not now he was finally still and quiet.

It was relief, for Jeremiah didn't like seeing his angel suffer. It was necessary, yes. Because otherwise he couldn't...wouldn't behave...but it was still rather unpleasant to hear the blood curdling screams emitted from his angels lips...it should be moans of pleasure not cries of pain...

Jeremiah looked down at his Angel's back. The wings were finished. Still leaking red across the grey concrete floor and soaking into his ruined shirt and pants. Jeremiah ran a finger through the drying liquid and raised it to his nose, inhaling long and slow; his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He brought the bloodied finger to his lips and sucked it into his mouth, relishing the taste as his head dropped back in ecstasy. He moaned around it, his tongue wrapping around the digit as he ensured every drop was gone.

It was part of his angel, and it was delicious.

He gazed over at the sleeping boy, his face twisted into a grimace even as he slept. Jeremiah leant over and ran the pad of his thumb across his lips; pulling them into a soft smile, before removing it and letting the teens face sink back into his agonised expression.

He looked gorgeous as he slept; how the older longed to touch and play...

But for now however, he would sleep too. He needed his energy. The next few days were going to be eventful and he needed to be operating and full capacity if his plans were ever to succeed.

* * *

><p>Kurt awoke to an agonising pain in his back. His head was pounding and his nose was being assaulted by the most repulsive scent<p>

He slowly opened his eyes, allowing them to get used to the darkness before surveying his surroundings.

He was still in the same place. That much he could remember, the rest was all a blur. The walls were still the same, the floor...that was a little different. Instead of looking down and seeing cold, grey concrete he saw pools of dark crimson with a tacky texture and a nauseating odour wafting from it.

So nauseating in fact that before Kurt had time to cover his mouth, he emptied his stomach onto the ground.

The sound of vomit splattering against the floor was enough to make his stomach heave again. Bile rushed up into his throat, leaving a nasty acidic taste in his mouth that made him want to gag.

An exasperated sigh echoed across the room, and Kurt looked up to see a dark form emerging from the shadows.

'Oh. That's just fantastic angel.' Jeremiah said, his voice rolling in sarcasm as he walked over to Kurt. 'I wait over 12 hours for you to wake up and you go and ruin it all by upchucking everywhere. That's hardly appealing is it? How am I meant to kiss you with vomit round your mouth?'

Kurt flinched as Jeremiah extended an arm to his face, prodding his cheeks above the puke stains. 'Well it doesn't look like you're going to be sick again, but I guess we better go clean you up. It's nearly time for a bathroom trip anyway.'

He quickly wondered back over to the shadows and appeared seconds later clutching Kurt's blindfold, a roll of Duct tape and a long rope. The usual things he had when taking Kurt to the bathroom.

He leant down and fastened the blindfold around his eyes; catching some hairs in the knot near the back, causing Kurt to hiss in pain. He then bit off a long strip of tape and pressed it to Kurt's lips, placing a soft kiss over the plastic, before he turned Kurt around and loosened off the binds tying him to the walls. He kept the ones around his wrists done up, he couldn't afford any mishaps if his angel decided to lash out. Instead he just hooked the long rope through a loop attached to Kurt's collar. He tied it securely on and gave it a precautionary tug to test its strength, causing Kurt to tip forwards. Jeremiah forced his hands under Kurt's arms and hoisted him up to a standing position.

The blood rushed to his head, making Kurt feel slightly dizzy. He stumbled, his bound hands not allowing him to regain balance and the agony as he stretched his back over taking all his thoughts. Jeremiah made a lunge for him, and managed to steady Kurt back upright, before counteracting his efforts and spinning Kurt around, so the teen was disorientated enough to not locate the door's direction.

Once Kurt was considered 'dizzy' enough, Jeremiah pulled him across the room and over to the door. Kurt heard a set of keys jangle around and fumble with the lock, before one managed to successfully open it.

Kurt heard Jeremiahs voice instructing him when to step as they approached the set of stairs. 'Step-step-Step' The repetitive chant as Kurt's feet smacked down on the cold concrete of each step.

Wait- cold concrete? His feet where touching the ground and Kurt could feel the texture of each step under his toes. Kurt did a little victory hop and smiled beneath the duct tape.

Jeremiah had forgotten to put Kurt's shoes on. Normally he would force Kurt to wear a pair of grotty old sneakers when they went out...so Kurt could never feel what was under his feet. He could never tell what environment he was in, so if he did get free of his room, he couldn't use prior knowledge to find his way anywhere else. But this was brilliant, maybe now he could get an idea of his location. He could...

'Door' Jeremiah called; pulling sharply on the rope causing Kurt to splutter and gap as he halted. Jeremiah fumbled with the keys again, before opening up the second door at the top of the flight of stairs. He pushed Kurt through and followed after not bothering to lock the doors as they secured themselves automatically once they closed, or at least Kurt presumed they did as Jeremiah had never locked them on their way out before.

After a couple of steps Kurt gasped. (Well, the equivalent of gasped considering his mouth was taped shut) Under his feet he could feel grass; cold and damp. Squishing underneath his toes with every step he took. He could feel each blade, feel them slot between his toes and tickle at the soles of his feet.

He was ecstatic to finally have some connection with the outside. Where fresh air and sunlight reigned and people roamed free. He would do anything to stay out here forever. But there was no point trying to escape now. With every step he could feel the jolts of pain coursing through his back reminding him of what could happen.

He could only remember glimpses of last night, of a knife and smiles and pain. But even though he didn't remember it exactly, he was sure he didn't want it to reoccur.

They eventually reached the apparent 'bathroom' where Kurt was sent every day. The grass stopped and Kurt felt himself step back onto solid concrete; the dampness on his feet exaggerating the freezing temperatures of the night.

He winced as a cold breeze blew against his back causing all sorts of sharp tingles to dart through his body. It hurt like fuck, but Kurt tried to ignore it.

Jeremiah unlocked the door and, careful not to press on Kurt's back, pushed him into the room, pulling the door closed behind them. Letting the loud clunk of a bolt tell Kurt there was no escape.


	21. Chapter 21

'What?' All three Warblers exclaimed at the same time, all staring slack jawed at Shirley as anger started to bubble up within.

'Jeremiah's Angel... That boy on your phone, you know?'

'Err...No.' Jeff cried, his voicing becoming louder and louder. 'We don't _know_, because he's our friend. His name is Kurt and he doesn't even _know _Jeremiah. So who the _Fuck_ is this_ Angel_ you're talking about?'

'Ok. I'm going to spell this out for you sunshine-.' She said with a smile. '-That boy there; your friend Kurt; He and Jeremiah... are _dating_, they have been for a while so I'm told, so whatever happened, they must have kept it a secret.'

'WHAT?' Blaine practically screamed, storming forward and slamming his fists down on the cashier's desk. 'No...That can't...Explain... NOW!' He yelled as Shirley flinched back.

'Ok, ok. Jesus kid, calm down. You're scaring my shoppers.'

'I don't give a flying _fuck _about your god damn shoppers Shirley. This is my best friend's life here. So spit it out.'

'But my shoppers...' she tried desperately, looking around at the few frightened faces that remained.

'Fine' Blaine growled. 'If you care so freaking much.' He leant over the cashiers counter, he legs swinging in the air as he searched around on the desk.

'Hey you can't-' Shirley started before-

'Bingo.' Blaine grabbed hold of a mini microphone. He quickly rocked back to a standing position before pressing a bright red button on the microphones base, next to the chord that led inside the desk.

He tapped it twice, issuing a shrill screech to blast out of the store speakers. 'Ooh sorry.' This time it was Blaine's voice that came from the speakers...'Right...umm ok...dear customers of The Gap Westerville...Shirley here would like to apologise for earlier behaviour...we were a bit...well, loud...we have seen the error of our ways and ...we are going to go now...so umm...could someone else...oh yeah, staff announcement...' he coughed. 'Could someone else come and man the cashier's desk please...umm...Thanks.'

He turned the microphone off and threw it back onto the counter.

'Right Shirley-' He said as he walked, making his way around the counter and grabbing her firmly by the arm, ignoring her protests. '-You are coming with us.'

With that, Blaine dragged Shirley, with the help of Nick and Jeff over to a door in the far corner marked _Staff Only._ He knocked twice, listened for an answer, before half punching the door open, thrusting Shirley inside and crying 'Talk.' Before slamming the door shut behind them with a bang.

* * *

><p>Shirley was seated on a small and rickety plastic chair behind a rather grotty and equally plastic table. Blaine, Nick and Jeff were all perched on a counter opposite her, sat beside a large and very dusty coffee machine. Racks of clothes lined all the walls and there were piles of jumpers and pants heaped on almost every flat surface. They had had to fight, just to find a place to sit...<p>

'Ok...so I guess they've been together since January or something... At least, that's when Jer started mentioning him.' Shirley said, going straight on from Jeff's earlier question.

'I'm still confused.' Nick whispered as Blaine gazed on. Jeff was fishing around in his pockets ...occasionally pulling out tissues and such before his phone emerged. He began tapping away at the screen frantically for a few seconds, before holding still and signalling for Shirley to continue.

'I pointed him out as he walked past the store once, he was really cute and all, and then Jer looks up, see's him...and just freezes, like in the movies. And just goes...'The Angel.' All distant like.'

The boys nodded along, waiting for her to go on.

'So next time we see him, Jer watched him and just goes, 'Shirley...that boy there...he's_ my_ angel.' And he's so proud and all, and we watch him frolicking about in his Blazer looking' mighty fine and I congratulate him, because that boy is a catch.'

'I never actually knew his name, 'cos Jer always referred to him as Angel...I guess that's why I didn't know who you boys meant earlier. Well I guess Jer and he got to know each other after that because over the next few weeks he made sure he took all the deliveries to Dalton and stuff. So they had time to meet up...Where I think he met you Blainers.'

Blaine gave an absentminded grunt of agreement. That was where he'd met Jeremiah. He'd looked so lost with his boxes...Blaine had found him terribly endearing and agreed to help him. He'd shown him the school and helped him find his way around...Oh...Fu-

'And he keeps showing me the cutest pictures of the kid, all smiling and happy. He said he's watched him perform with the choir, where he got all the shots...it was so sweet, how cute they were...never saw a snap of them together mind, though Jer said Angel's dad wouldn't like it or something...Then... the next time we see him together, is when all you boys come in here to sing. Jer got all cross because he was with another guy and wel Blainers, you didn't respect boundaries I suppose...but it was ok, because then his Angel boy came to the rescue and persuaded our boss-man to give Jer his job back...that's commitment right there...'

Jeff, who was still clutching his phone, looked over at her and spoke. 'Umm...Mam...can you please tell us about what happened the day we talked about earlier...thanks.'

'Oh right...yeah... well the kid came in...Returned the socks like you said and then started to walk off...he looked properly upset and all, and Jeremiah runs over to me and is like talking about how he needs to return something to the kid...so he asks me to cover his shift while he takes him for coffee and out for the day I suppose... either way he didn't come back, but I got paid his cheque for the shift so I was fine with it.'

'Right.' Jeff said; twisting the phone slightly as Shirley tossed her hair. 'Do you know what he was returning to Kurt?'

'Oh yeah, this crummy little badge thing...like a bird or something, I don't know, I didn't really look. Reminded me of all those liberty eagle things...I dunno to be honest...but yeah...'

Blaine froze...

'The pin.' Nick hissed to Blaine. 'How the fuck did Jeremiah get the pin?'

Blaine had a terrible feeling he knew...

* * *

><p>'Can we talk about that later?' Blaine pleaded as he felt his eyes start to sting. he then turned his attentions to Shirley, a mutated scowl masking the raging guilt.<p>

'I have just one question for you _Shirley' _he snarled, using his anger to hide the tears. 'When you and every one of your colleagues were being questioned by the Ohio State Police I'm pretty positive they would have showed you a picture. Did it never occur to you to say 'Oh yeah, I know that kid, my friend Jeremiahs pretty smitten with him' or perhaps 'yes, I did see him, he went out for coffee, you should search there.' Or I don't know...say ANYTHING?'

Shirley's spine was pressed against the back of her chair, the plastic squeaking with the force as he shrunk down away from Blaine who was verging on breaking point

'Did you? Did you think to tell them that you knew him? That you had seen himDID YOU HUH?'

His entire face was turning red, and his breathing was heavy and laboured.

'Th- they used an old yearbook photo' Shirley stutterd. 'I- I didn't recognise-'

'He could be DEAD and you didn't say a GOD DAMN THING...NO ONE said ANYTHING...and Jeremiah...'

'Blaine calm down.' Nick said, grabbing hold of his friend's shoulders and pulling him into his chest as Blaine completely broke.

'Jesus Fucking Christ...' Blaine cried, his body wracking with dry tears.

'It's all my fault' he murmured into Nick's front. 'God...it really was all my fault.'

'No Blaine...' Nick said, rubbing circles on Blaine's back as Shirley gave them each a disbelieving look. Her interrogator had gone from screaming at her to crying on his friend...this whole day was incredibly confusing. 'You were an Ass...but that doesn't mean it was your fault.'

'It was though...' Blaine cried. 'It's all my fault because I was the one who essentially introduced Jeremiah to him...and...and I showed Jeremiah Dalton, and I kept him around and I brought everyone to the Gap and I made Kurt sad and then mad and then he came here and then he disappeared and all because of me and now I'm betting he's with Jeremiah or he could be dead or...and...' A fresh wave of tears flooded through him and Nick began to panic.

'Jeff a little help pl-' Nick raised his head, but Jeff wasn't there. 'Jeff?'

He heard a voice coming from behind a rack of clothes, and a couple of seconds later, Jeff emerged, phone pressed to his ear and his mouth moving like lightning.

'...Yes dad...no I know that...no I never promised we wouldn't get involved besides this was all an accident...no really, we didn't mean to...no we just saw a badge...no I...look I'll send you the video I just took, that should explain things...ok...yes dad...yes I'll do that as soon as I hang up just...no wait...ple-...please...ok..yes...look, I need you to find out something for me... well I'm sorry but when you see the video you'll understand...ok...yes dad...ok I promise...ok..._ok _right, can you find out which member of staff from the Gap in Westerville supplied the cops with the CCTV footage...don't ask... no really...I just think they might have missed something...don't worry...yes I know it's important, that's why I'm asking you ... Ok just... no listen...can you be as quick as possible, we're kind of onto something here...Thank you sir,...yeah, I'll hold, but hurry.'

'Jeff?' Nick asked queitly.

Jeff spun around 'Huh?'

'What was that?' Nick asked over the sound of Blaine's sobs.

'I think.' Jeff said, glancing over at Shirley and ignoring her eye roll 'after what was said here, that we- and by that I mean the police- missed something from the CCTV...From what I know so far about the evidence...don't give me that look Nick my dad told me...' Nick scoffed. 'Don't judge me...I just...I'm pretty sure they said they couldn't find a lead for Kurt because the last footage they have is of him walking towards the exit. They don't know what happened after they just presumed he left, and of course the Coffee shop doesn't have cameras so they didn't know either...but Shirley said Jeremiah stopped Kurt before he left...so why didn't the cameras spot it?'

Nicks eyes widened and Blaine looked up from his position on Nicks chest, sniffing.

'Huh?' The red eyed boy murmured.

'They only tracked Kurt up to that point, because they didn't know what happened after. They presumed he took one route, so those are the cameras they checked...what if something else happened and it wasn't on those cameras...what if someone didn't give the cops the tapes with what happened after, just the ones most people presumed would be correct?'

'So you're asking your dad what exactly?' Nick queried.

'I want to know who gave the police the tapes...because Shirley said Jeremiah...but I need to be sure, because if that turns out to be the case...add that to the video I took of our conversation with Shirley and I think we have a pretty hefty case saying that Jeremiah has something...if not everything to do with Kurt's dissapearnce...If he gave the cops the wrong tapes to hide what happened, then he quit his job...there would be no leads... So I-' A loud buzz came from Jeff's phone. '-Hang on a sec.'

He tapped the screen and raised the phone to his ear, turning away from the room's occupants.

'Hey dad...did you-...great...so who wa-...oh shit...crap sorry, I mean pardon me...just...ok Dad...don't freak out...but...no, just watch the video...and then remember the name of the CCTV guy...I think it'll make sense...yes...what?...shall we s-...we'll stay then?..ok..Text me after ok? Great...bye then.'

Jeff hung up, a huge grin on his face as he turned back to his friends, slotting his phone into his pocket.

'The guy who gave the cops the tapes...Shirley was right...it was Jeremiah' He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest, still smiling.'...and after everything else we've been told...I'm pretty sure he's our guy!'


	22. Chapter 22

'What do you mean he's our guy?' Nick asked, releasing Blaine so the boy could wipe away his tears.

'As in I think Jeremiah kidnapped Kurt.' Jeff hissed, folding his arms across his chest as he stepped closer to his friends, shielding their conversation from Shirley.

'Wha-?' Blaine asked, still a little out of it.

'Jeremiah.' Nick said. 'Jeff thinks he's behind Kurt's disappearance...he thinks he kidnapped him'

'You think he... he_ kidnapped_ Kurt?' Blaine's jaw dropped. His tearful, sated self replaced with a new, albeit very shocked version.

'Well, he displayed all the signs of being a serious stalker... He watched him, gave Kurt pet names, even found his way into Kurt's dorm...and we know _that's_ true because he got Kurt's warbler pin, and that was always kept on his desk...he seems to have used you Blaine-' He turned to watch the boy, a soft and sympathetic look gracing his features. '-to get close to Kurt... I'm...I'm sorry...that's got to suck...' He trailed off.

Blaine shook his head, his eyes misting. 'Don't worry about me.' He murmured, rolling his hands to get Jeff to continue

Right...yes...well Kurt was last seen with Jeremiah... And that wouldn't be a problem, were it not for that fact that all official documentation, like CCTV, of Kurt and him seems to have vanished, which is incredibly suspicious... I mean, especially since he was the one handing over that stuff to the cops, he had ample opportunity to tamper with the evidence, to make it look like he and Kurt never met... and now he's disappeared. It all spells guilty to me.'

'Oh God.' Blaine groaned, his head sinking down until his forehead smacked against his knees. His fingers fisted in his hair and he let out a string of obscenities along with another _'my fault'_, all muffled in the fabric of his pants.

'Blaine.' Nick said, patting his friend firmly on the back. 'You _have _to _stop _blaming yourself. Admittedly you had more to do with it that say...me or Jeff.' Jeff ran his finger across his throat, and Nick gulped. 'I mean...it's not your fault. And you've got to stop blaming yourself for it because it's making you mope-y and miserable and that doesn't help anything...so buck up and...and be a man...yeah. And let's save Kurt and get our friend back.'

Blaine hummed in agreement, his head still in his lap, Nick rested his head on Blaine's back and patted his friend's head gently as one would a dog.

'Not to err...interrupt this _moving _scene but...can i...you know, go yet?' Shirley called out across the room.

'Nope.' Jeff said, spinning round to face her. 'You have to stay here until my dad gets back to us. And if you try and leave we know who you are...'

'Right.' She murmured 'I'll guess ...we'll just...hang here then.'

* * *

><p>Twenty very long minutes later, (during which time Shirley had taken to singing very out of tune, to 'When I Get You Alone.') found the three boys and Shirley still in the Staff room of the Gap, but with two uniformed police officers keeping them company.<p>

Shirley was being questioned in the far corner by a very tall and intimidating man, who seemed to find her stuttering and nervousness especially amusing if the grunts of laughter every time she squeaked were anything to go by.

The Warblers were waiting for Jeff's father to arrive before they spoke to the police.(Nick having warned them that without another adult present anything they said could be disregared by the authorities) My Sterling had watched the video his son had sent him and immediately rung his contact in the Ohio state police; who had dispatched officers from Westerville to the Gap.

* * *

><p>Another 10 minutes and a very frantic Robert Sterling had also arrived, his black $60,000 Mercedes looking very out of place parked in the employee car-park behind the store.<p>

Currently he was deep in discussion with his son and the slightly shorter officer who was carrying a radio.

'No...Officer Bridgeport.' Robert was saying, his son standing faithfully at his side. 'We already _have _a statement from the young lady. My son filmed the damn thing. We don't need to question her again.'

'We cannot allow this to be taken in as evidence. We need an official statement before we can take her comment further. I'm sorry Mr Sterling but-'

'Bullshit.' Robert cried 'I want to speak with your superior because that _can't _be right. She's just going to repeat the whole retched thing; this is a child's life at stake. Just...we need the search warrant to check through the CCTV so just...do something god damn it because I am losing patience.' Robert had began pacing at this point, his fists clenched by his sides as the three teens and the officer looked on.

'Sir.' The policeman said, his voice slipping dangerously close to patronizing. 'An awful lot of paper work is involved to get a search warrant, it could take days and-'

'Screw that.' Robert cried, and Jeff did a little air punch in victory, earning him a glare from the officer. 'I'm calling Carl. Because this case is Amber alert, and if that doesn't allow for a shortcut then what the hell does.'

* * *

><p>'...Yes...yes, that's what I though...no it's officer Bridgeport...no, he wouldn't listen...I tried to explain but...yes...no, that sounds perfect...thank you so much Carl...yes I'll pass him over right now.' Robert held out the phone, covering the mouthpiece with his free hand as he addressed the officer opposite him.<p>

'That was Carl Burling.' He said. 'The Chief of the Westerville police I believe, also a very close friend of mine. _He_ seems to think that I was right, so I suggest you speak to him.' He finished, smirking as he passed the mobile over.

He strutted across the cramped room and over to his son, who was sat with his two friends, drinking coffee from the old machine next to them; ignoring the somewhat panicked sound of the officer behind him talking to his boss.

'Good news boys.' He said, pulling up the plastic chair Shirley had once sat at, and taking a seat. 'I spoke to my buddy Carl, and he's having a search warrant put through right now. It shouldn't take long...especially since we now have the junior-managers permission to search the building...this is just a formality.'

'Who's the-' Jeff started, before his father cut him off.

'Turns out, after that Jeremy boy quit, the young lady over there got his job.' Robert said, gesturing over to where Shirley and the large cop were still talking. 'And what with Roderick over there scaring her silly, we have wormed her permission, as the most senior staff member here, to search the premises...meaning the CCTV...this may be our only technological lead and we need to scope it out...got any coffee left?'

Nick nodded and fiddled around with the dials on the device next to him, placing a small polystyrene cup under the large filter, letting the piping hot drink fill it.

'Is there nothing else then?' Blaine asked, taking a sip from his own cup. 'No other leads at all?'

'Not that I'm meant to tell you this-' Robert said. 'Or know myself for that matter, but no. There aren't. The footage from the stores front camera was the last electronic account of Kurt.'

'Can't they track his phone or something?' Nick asked, 'they do in all the movies.'

'That's another problem. The only contact made from Kurt's phone after his disappearance was texts. Texts can be sent from anywhere and they are not very reliable. You can't actually trace a text. Sometimes there are delays in sending them; sometimes they can be routed via the internet et cetera or low signal can muck them up. The actual time it was sent is hard to acquire and the person could be long gone by the time, any possible trace was formed...' he paused as he heard the officer behind him hang up.

'You need a phone call to actually track someone accurately, because then you have a live feed from the phone, leading you to their current destination...I'm not sure if that made sense to you boys, but that's the problem the cops had.' Mr Sterling said, accepting the coffee from Nick with a nod of thanks.

Almost as soon as Robert had swallowed his first sip of coffee, officer Bridgeport was behind him and tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

'Chief says you were uh...right.' The man said, shuffling around on his feet, looking far too timid for a police man. 'What with the young ladies agreement and the warrant being written up...we can search the place...though he said we was only after the CCTV stuff...and that you should be the one to look at it, cos you would know how to work it all.'

'Thank you.' Robert said, placing a hand on the table and pushing himself upright. 'Boys.' He nodded towards them and followed officer Bridgeport away into a different room.

* * *

><p>Now...they waited...<p>

* * *

><p>...And waited...<p>

* * *

><p>...And waited...<p>

It was nearly 45 minutes before Mr Sterling and Officer Bridgeport emerged. Both with extremely solemn expressions and furrowed brows. Under Bridgeport's arm was a large black file, presumably containing whatever CCTV footage they had collected, and a grey laptop bag.

The three boys immediately stand and stare at the pair, their hearts pounding and an almost pleading gleam in their eyes.

Bridgeport goes over to his colleague and leans in, whispering something that immediately grabs the others attention. Both glance over at Robert and the boys, before nodding to Mr Sterling, who waves his hand non-committal-y as he continues over to his son.

The officers grimace, and leave the room, calling for Shirley to follow them. She whimpers slightly but goes none the less. Now it is just The Warblers and Robert left.

* * *

><p>'I...' Robert starts, before looking back down at the floor. 'I think this would be better if we were all sitting' he gestures back over to where they all sat earlier and they go, the younger boys perching on the counter as Robert sits back in the grotty chair.<p>

'We...we went through the cameras...' he says, his voice slow and in control though that is the exact opposite of how Mr Sterling feels. '...We looked at all the stores monitors and at each shot individually...that's why we were so long.'

None of the boys say anything, the silence feels deafening.

'The end of the clip where Kurt was leaving the store was completely gone...we couldn't find it, so it was most likely cut from the tape entirely...but-' He swallows...and loudly. His entire mouth suddenly feels far too dry.

'You boys were right.' He continues. 'When they took the first batch of footage they missed something... the video on one of the stores back cameras had been tampered with...about 5 minutes was wiped...it would be easy to miss...but no one even checked those cameras...I...You know what I do for a living...I work with security...re-figuring the footage wasn't too hard...they left a trace and we managed to reverse it...but...what we found wasn't pretty...' he gulped again. Blaine's eyes were already damp with unshed tears, and the other two didn't look much better.

'During that time...your friend Kurt appeared on screen...and...and he wasn't alone'

Blaine gasps.

'...and he wasn't really himself...umm...I'm not quite sure what to tell you boys, but I guess you want to hear the truth, not the dolled up safe-for-public version.'

The three hummed in agreement, still unable to speak.

'Well...you were right again...he was with the Jerem...iah? man...looking at the footage I'm pretty sure he'd been drugged because he was being half dragged across the car park...we don't know exactly what went down...but Jeremiah then put him in the back seat of his car and drove off...that was about half an hour after we reckon Kurt leave the store...so err...as said earlier, he probably went with the man to get coffee, had his drink spiked, and was...umm...yes.'

He stopped and looked up, watching the boys faces for a reaction. It was several moments before anyone spoke.

'S-so...he really _has_ been...kidnapped?' Nick said, his voice wavering.

'It would appear so...' Robert agreed.

'I thought...I mean...I had a feeling...I just...hoped...' Jeff added, his voice fading off too.

'So umm...what are the cops doing now then?' Nick asked, looking around the room as if to confirm their disappearance.

'Well...now we have the footage...they are taking both it, and the young lady down to the station. From there I suppose they will go through all the evidence, and use her knowledge of Jeremiah to help locate him and Kurt... I'm not sure...'

'There's only one thing I have actually been assured of.' Robert said, reaching out and clasping both Jeff and Blaine's hands in his. Squeezing them in silent reassurance as the boys trembled in their places.

'Which is as of right now...Jeremiah... is one of the most wanted men in Ohio.'


	23. Chapter 23

Black. Everything was black...and the sounds...it was like he was underwater. There was a high plinking and a low grumble all merged together...he could make out someone speaking...but the words... they were still jumbled.

'Angel...Angel?'

What was the voice saying...it was a man's...his father maybe...or perhaps Blaine...?

'Angel...wake up...Angel...'

He couldn't tell...but it didn't matter...he liked this feeling...all numb and sleepy...maybe if he just fell asleep again and...

SLAP!

* * *

><p>Kurt shot upright gasping for breath like a fish out of water. His hand flew to his forehead as his head spun. He quickly glanced around to find his mystery voice...and slap giver...<p>

Oh, it was Jeremiah ...surprise

'Angel...you fainted...' That would explain those weird sensations then. 'You need to get up...or I'll have to punish you.'

Kurt squinted and raised his head.

'Hurry up.'

He ignored the order and gently moved his arm back down to the ground behind him, pushing himself slowly to his feet.

He was in the bathroom. Jeremiah perched on the edge of a grotty sink, watching him with a roll of duct tape and rope in his hands and a scowl on his face. He tutted as Kurt winced. God...the pain in his back was excruciating... he couldn't remember what happened though... just...waking up...in that room...blood on the floor. Oh god he was feeling nauseous again.

When Kurt was finally standing, his entire body swayed. His centre of gravity far too off to allow stability and Kurt found himself acquainted with the slimy walls more than he would like as he leant/ fell against them.

Jeremiah came over to him, watching as Kurt struggled and struggled to get to the sink.

'Come on Angel...' he grunted and rolled his eyes. 'Eugh...I guess I'll have to help you.' He extended an arm and looped it around Kurt's; slowly pulling him over to the sink.

The basin was a horrible thing. Cracked and chipped, a thick yellow grot line running around the circumference, with limestone encrusted taps to the side.

Above it was a dusty mirror in which Kurt could barely see himself...well most times. (He got a trip here once a day, and despite the heinous conditions it was Kurt's favourite part of the day because at least he had mobility.)

Jeremiah let go of Kurt's arm as soon as the teen got close enough the grab the rim of the sink.

He gently stroked Kurt's narrowed cheeks...letting his fingers toy with Kurt's ear lobe before running them back through the boy's grease stricken hair.

'Come on now...' he cooed. 'You've just got to wash your face and then we'll be done.'

Kurt nodded and turned the faucet on the sink, sending a blast of frozen water rocketing into the basin and splashing across his front. Kurt's breath caught as the icy liquid hit his bare chest. It stung and sent shivers right down to his toes.

He glanced back over to where Jeremiah was now standing, by the door; the rope and tape now by his feet and a knife spinning around in his fingers; the blade glinting in the bathrooms yellowing artificial light.

Kurt shivered and waited for the sink to fill before bending down to submerge his face in the liquid. Almost as soon as the water brushed his nose a splitting headache erupted in Kurt's skull. He should be used to it by now...it had been like this for three weeks, but for some reason he kept expecting nice, warm water to greet him rather than this arctic torture.

Kurt used to use his shirt as a wash cloth. Dampening the fabric and rubbing the sleeve across his face to remove as much dirt as he could, but now...with no shirt...and with much more than dirt on his face, Kurt was having slight difficulties.

He pulled his face out. Keeping his eyes tight shut as he wiped his face down with the pads of his fingers. He could feel them pull and stretch his skin, his unkempt nails snagging and tearing. Kurt winced and opened his eyes to inspect the damage.

His face was pink, and there were 5 tiny white scratches down each cheek. Kurt sighed and twisted his body slightly to check for more grime to remove...

And then he worked out why he fainted.

His eyes went wide and his jaw fell. He staggered back, crashing into a far wall and sank to the ground...his hand trembling as it came up to rest across his lips...

His voice was cracking as he kept his eyes on the mirror where he'd just seen...

Wings...

On his back; huge great wings; carved deep into his skin, visible by the blackened bloody scabs that coated Kurt's back. His eyes were tearing up and he could feel his throat tightening.

'I-...I...'

'What is the hell is wrong with you?' Jeremiah cried, storming over from his position by the door, the knife in his hands poised and up against Kurt's throat in less than a second.

'Get up and get cleaned up.' He said...pressing the blade harder against Kurt's soft skin.

'Get _off_ me.' Kurt cried, finding sudden courage and shoving Jeremiah back and into the wall. 'What the _hell _have you done to me? You fucking psycho.'

The fury in Jeremiah's eyes was immeasurable. He lunged at Kurt and yanked the boy upright by his hair. Kurt half screamed, great fat tears rolling down his cheeks now. Jeremiah smirked and laid the blade across the boy's cheek, catching one of the tears on it, then raising it to his lips and licking it clean, before replacing the blade in its original place by Kurt's neck.

'You're gonna behave now, or this may have an unfortunate accident with your throat.' He snarled. 'Those wings are a gift...I have blessed you, and you _will _be _grateful_ for them...'

He pulled Kurt by his hair back over to the door, chocked sobs leaving the young boy as they went. After several failed kicks on Kurt's behalf Jeremiah thrust him against the wall and released the hold on his hair.

He bent down to pick up the tape and rope, keeping the knife pressed to Kurt's body before he tied up his hands. Kurt was a babbling mess as Jeremiah tore of a strip of tape. He was cursing everyone and everything before Jeremiah stuck his lips shut. Even then he was still screeching muffled slurs and trying to escape. Jeremiah scooped up the knife and pressed it back against Kurt's pulse; effectively silencing him.

'Right Angel.' Jeremiah said; his eyes narrowed. 'I'm taking you back to your room. Looks like my plans will have to happen sooner.'

* * *

><p>Not a minute later and Kurt was being hauled back to his room. He hadn't even been allowed to use the toilet...<p>

As they crossed over the grass Kurt felt something stick in his foot. He stopped, hissing into the duct tape as the object dug further into his skin. It was a stone, and a large one at that.

Even after the split second that he paused, Jeremiah yanked on the rope around his wrists, sending him stumbling forward as his captor called for movement.

As they continued on Kurt felt a few more of the stones digging into his feet, they hurt. Quite badly too. It continued to just be the occasional one hidden in the grass, but then he heard the crunch... oh, they weren't on grass anymore...they were walking on gravel.

It was a new route, far straighter than any previous way they had gone, and presumably far more open too. Kurt could feel a chill wind blowing up against his spine and could hear the rustle of leaves in his ears.

That was strange...they'd _never_ been on the gravel before, Kurt couldn't think why he would...it was so loud...

But then Kurt heard the sirens.

Faint and far away, but definitely there. That explained this route; this was clearly a shorter, albeit slightly noisier path to take.

Kurt could feel himself smiling under the tape. His eyes gleaming behind the blinfold. This was fantastic...the sirens...that meant police...they were coming to get him...surely they must finally be coming to get him.

They were getting slowly louder and by now Jeremiahs shoes were smashing down on the stones, moving quicker and quicker with each step and Kurt found himself half jogging to keep up.

He could feel the stones still stabbing at his skin and was pretty sure they'd leave marks come morning. Wretched things were so freaking sharp, how the hell did something so small do so much damage...

* * *

><p>Ok, now this was just mean.<p>

One of the stones was caught between his toes. His shook his foot slightly but it just wouldn't budge. He couldn't do much else to free it without diverting Jeremiah's attention or getting left behind (thus causing another sharp jolt on the rope, which would more than likely send him tumbling to the ground...he'd rather the stones were in his foot, not his face).

Instead he just settled for jogging with the stone, if he held his foot at a slight angle it didn't hurt as much...if he could just hold it-

'Here.' Jeremiah called. 'Take three large steps then stop.'

Kurt did as he was told; sensing grass beneath his toes almost instantly...then the cold concrete signalling they were back at Kurt's 'hiding place.'

Kurt heard the jangle of keys and listened as the lock clicked open. He heard the loud creak as the door swung open and winced as it clipped his knee.

'Watch it; we're going back in now.' Jeremiah said, quickly tugging on the ropes to bring Kurt inside.

* * *

><p>Jeremiah began to head down the stairs almost instantaneously...calling out 'step' for Kurt. Just as Kurt raised his foot to step down he quickly shook it. Hoping to get the stone free, after a second or so it flung out from his toes and Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. He heard it clink against the wall then a slightly louder than normal crunch as the door swung back.<p>

He began to make his way down the stairs, following Jeremiah's orders until they reached the bottom door. A repeat of the first occurred and once the door was opened, Kurt was shoved back into his dark and dusky room, back into the wall and back down to the ground.

* * *

><p>It was around five minutes before Jeremiah removed Kurt's blindfold. And a further two before the Duct tape was torn from his lips.<p>

As soon as it was gone Kurt ignored the stinging and started shrieking abuse at the man again, who simply chuckled in response; adding an 'Oh Angel' every so often.

'You bastard you fucking bastard, get your filthy hands off me.'

'Don't touch me.'

'Let Go! Let go of me you sick fuck!'

The older man made swift work of securing all Kurt's binds, not listening to any of the words Kurt threw at him...he had been called far worse in his time, besides...he could always punish the boy later..he just ignored it all...

... Until one sentence caught his attention.

'They're coming for me.' Kurt cried, watching as Jeremiah tied his feet back together. His head was flailing about madly and he shook his feet with all the strength he could muster. 'I heard them, the sirens...they're out there and they're going to find me. You won't get away with this...'

Jeremiah laughed, raising a hand to stroke down Kurt's cheek. 'Oh...Angel...' He said his lip curling into a sly smile, ignoring when Kurt tried to bite his hand. 'They won't find you..'

'They will I know they-'

'They won't...they won't have time'


	24. Chapter 24

3 hours later...

* * *

><p>Kurt was afraid as to how far Jeremiah would take this nightmare before he came to his senses, the more he thought about it; the less likely it seemed that Jeremiah would back down.<p>

He was still in his position on the ground, his hands and feet bound seperatly and then shackled to the wall. He had woken up from a drug induced sleep to find himself even more scantily clad than earlier. His pants hanging down by his knees and his briefs slung awkwardly, barely covering what lay below.

From what he could see, Jeremiah was still toying with the knife. Dragging the side of the blade across the pad of his thumb, adding a small amount of pressure so a thin red line was left behind. Small red droplets collecting on the surface of his skin.

Jeremiah smirked and ran the flat of the knife against the wound. Rubbing the globes of blood into his skin, leaving a light red stain on the glistening metal. As soon as the blade lost contact with his hand, Jeremiah eyed it hungrily, and raised it to his lips, snaking his tongue out to remove the red from the surface.

Kurt's eyes widened, and his throat began to clench and gag.

Jeremiah would lean over to whisper something in his ear between each flick of his tongue against the blade and Kurt would whimper weakly as he struggled against the restraints binding him to the wall.

Once the knife was clean Jeremiah shuffled closer, determination written across his face. His hand stretched out and squeezed Kurt's thigh. Tightening so much that there was a definate pain shooting up Kurt's leg.

Tears stung in the corner of the boy's eyes as he watched helplessly. The handprint around his thigh was slowly starting to gain colour, and would inevitably bruise, that is, if his blood had enough time to form one before his heart stopped beating altogether.

Right now it was just joining the other bruises that he could see peppering his body in inauspicious patterns.

* * *

><p>'I want to tell you something Angel.' The older man said, leaning in close so his warm and rather rancid breath ghosted along Kurt's jaw. 'It's not like the other things...it's... special...and its perfect for you... for us.'<p>

'It's a story, angel.' He said. 'Romeo and Juliet.'

Kurt paused, his mind not quite catching on to any point in the man's speech. Himself, personally being a little too focused on the knife in Jeremiah's hand and the gun lying just a few feet behind him.

'A tale of two star crossed lovers. Destined to be together, even though society condemned it. They fought for their love, and went against what everyone else told them, so they could live happily and be together.'

'They first met at a ball, when Juliet was dressed as an Angel...just like you' He sighed lustfully. 'From the first day I saw you Angel. I knew I had to have you. You were so perfect, you are _so_ perfect. And you were laughing, and your face lit up...'

'But it was that Blaine who was making you smile.' he snarled. 'Not me. It was meant to be me, it _will_ be me.'

He'd told Kurt about watching him before, never treading into detail, just speaking of their entwined fates...but now he was bringing Blaine into it..._Tainting_ Blaine... Kurt shuddered.

'So I plotted. I befriended that Blaine. We went out to coffee, and I earned his trust. Not a difficult thing, just flirt with him and play hard to get and that boy comes running in and serenades you.'

He laughed, his voice shrill and crackly, from a throat that was worn down by cigarette smoke and coughing.

'I followed him. I learned from him. I asked about his school. He told me everything. I asked about his friends, he told me about you.'

'No...I...he...No!' Kurt stammered, his mind reeling. 'Blaine wouldn't...he woul-'

'Blaine did. Like a little puppy obeying his master... He told me everything I needed to know. Who you were, where you were from...your name. I just needed to find you... And I did.'

Jeremiah reached out to caress Kurt's bottom lip briefly with his thumb, eliciting a small sob in return.

'I came to your school, I got inside, I found your room, and I stayed. You were away...unfortunately; otherwise we would have had this little gathering,_ so_ much sooner.'

Kurt's breath caught.

That bastard, that sick, twisted, perverted, demented, disgusting, barbaric _Monster_! Had... been in _his_ room..._seen his_ things... _touched his_ possessions. It was...mind numbingly horrific. He'd have to wash down_ everything_. His room, his things...they were contaminated. They were soiled by this man's very presence. Kurt shuddered just thinking about it, and his stomach rolled in disgust.

'I found your pin.' Jeremiah said, the corners of his mouth twitching up again. 'I treasured that pin; it was my link to you. My link to my love. Our sacred bond. It earned me your trust when I returned it to you.'

'And then you came with me. To coffee, you knew. I know you did. You knew you would love me, you knew we were destined to be together.'

'I didn't-' Kurt said...he eyes fixed on the older man.

'Oh you did. I could sense it. Like Romeo to Juliet, we were drawn to each other. Destiny entwined us...and you could sense it. I know you did Angel, you can't deny me.'

Kurt didn't reply, only kept his eyes on Jeremiah.

'You went against Blaine. I heard others speak of your fight that day. You went against him, so you could go to me. Like Juliet against her mother...' Jeremiah's hand reached up, and brushed a stray lock of hair out of Kurt's eyes. 'You love me Angel; you just don't know it yet.'

He let his fingers trail down Kurt's cheek, smiling and pressing his lips to the teens face. Kurt cringed and tried to back inconspicuously away.

'Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! Fear not my Angel...for I shall return you to heaven. I found it... An act like these two lovers will be true enough to return you.'

* * *

><p>Jeremiah sat up, and began edging closer, so one knee was pressed right up to Kurt's thigh whilst the other lay between the younger boys leg, nudging against Kurt's briefs. He brought up his hand from its position at his side; the knife clutched firmly in his palm. The blade of which appeared to shine, even in the darkness of the room.<p>

Kurt's mouth was quivering; tiny little whimpers escaped his lips as he watched Jeremiah spin the blade around his fingers.

'Hush now darling...' The man cooed. 'Nothing to fear.'

But when Kurt saw the knife edging closer and closer to him, he couldn't seem to stay quiet.

* * *

><p>'...What are you going to do with that? I don't...What are you doing?' He stammered...trying to shuffle back, away from the man, but finding himself instead, just pinned tight against the wall.<p>

'At the end of the story' Jeremiah said his voice slow, and deliberate. 'Romeo and Juliet die, so they can be together'

'Together forever Angel. In heaven, united for _all _of eternity.' He stated, as though it were simple. '_We_ shall be together for all eternity. An act of true love...'

'W-what? I don't-'

'An act of true love can return you to heaven...'

'I'm not-'

'_This_ is _our_ act!'

Jeremiah just smiled, a sick and perverted smirk, and leant in closer to kiss Kurt softly on the cheek.

Almost as soon as the contact was made Kurt froze. Jeremiahs words suddenly sinking in.

He wanted to return Kurt to heaven...but heaven was...

Oh god...oh god, oh god, Oh God!

Jeremiah... was going to kill him? Kill them both...in some _twisted _rendition of Romeo and Juliet.

Kurt couldn't breathe...he couldn't...he...

His heart was hammering at a hundred miles an hour, pounding against his chest, trying to break loose. His limbs were numb and frozen still. His mind was racing, horrific and disfigured images flashing before his eyes, of blood and bodies and...

Kurt couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't think...he couldn't...couldn't...

Kurt was brought back to reality with a jolt as Jeremiah pressed a searing kiss to his lips. Then Kurt screamed.

He darted away, his eyes wide and fear ridden. Tears were cascading down his cheeks as he frantically shook his head, and flailed his bound limbs, trying to escape the man's clutches.

'NO.' He cried. His voice high and sharp. 'NO...get away. No. Help... HELP'

'Thy lips are warm!' Jeremiah stated, eyes sparkling as he leant in, snatching Kurt's arm up with his hand. His nails scraping at the skin, leaving white paths in their midst.

'Get off me...Don't touch me. Somebody help. Anybody...please' the boy sobbed. '...Help Me.'

The man's grip snaked down Kurt's arm, until they claimed his wrist with a tight grasp. The knife, currently held tightly in Jeremiah's other hand, was placed gently on the ground.

Kurt was trembling and soft whimpers were escaping his lips as the man's now free hand drifted across his body and over to his other arm.

Kurt let out a strangled cry as his captor held him tight. 'Let me Go...please, Please! Let me GO!'

'Yea, noise?' Jeremiah said, seizing Kurt's hand in within his slender fingers. His nails leaving a set of crescent moons, indented on Kurt's skin. 'Then I'll be brief.'

He pulled Kurt's hand across and over to the knife, which appeared to be shimmering on the floor.

'No...don't...you can't...i won't...P-Please!'

The man had to pry each individual finger apart until the boy's hand was stuck open, on pain of bone breakage if he resisted further. He then forced Kurt's hand down, until it was touching the knife's handle. As soon as contact was made, he swiftly closed Kurt's palm around the weapon, keeping his hand tightly around Kurt's, controlling every movement, every swing of the blade.

'O happy dagger.' Jeremiah cooed, swinging the knife teasingly before Kurt's eyes. The other boys hand now weak and pliant, the fight within him fading by the second.

'Please...' he begged one final time, his voice barely more than a whisper as tears and sobs choked him.

The only thing left of his willpower was shown in his eyes.

Kurt's eyes were so expressive, they one of the many things that Jeremiah loved about his angel; unlike his dolls, he could look into his eyes and see every tiny detail, every ounce of pain and fear. He longed for the time when he would see love hidden within those deep azure pools. Not long now...

Kurt's heart was pounding like a drum against his ribs, playing chords of fear and desperation. He didn't know what to do, they was nothing he could do. Only wait until the despair completely consumed him, that or the knife snatched away his life.

'This is thy sheath!' Jeremiah said dragging Kurt's hand slowly down, until the tip of the blade hovering mere millimetres above the delicate skin on Kurt's outstretched wrist.

Kurt had given up trying to talk Jeremiah out of this. No words he said would make a difference. He settled with muttering under his breath; his previous spoken cries, now nothing more than personal murmurs and desperate prayers to anyone who would listen in between the sobs that were racking his body.

'There rust' Jeremiah whispered, letting the blades point press lightly on Kurt's skin. Cold and hard, and sharp.

Kurt's entire body was shaking. His eyes streaming and his breath coming out in desperate pants.

Jeremiah pulled the blade up. Up and up above Kurt's wrist, until it was level with his eyes. The boy looked up and watched.

Behind the knife he could see the man. His eyes shining and his mouth frozen in a wicked smile.

For a split second, their gaze met; the deep oceans against the greens of the forest, a battle of the elements, Kurt silently willing one last time, for him not to do this. But Jeremiah was relentless. One long blink was all it took. The blade twisted slightly in Kurt's palm, and Jeremiah sucked in a deep breath.

'And let me die.'

The knife fell.

'NO.' Kurt screamed. Unable to stop himself.

But Jeremiah held Kurt's hand tight as the knife made its descent.

Every second slowed down...

...every tiny movement of the weapon magnified...

... every ounce of fear exaggerated...

...until Jeremiah released his breath...

...and plunged the blade into Kurt's wrist.


	25. Chapter 25

_~The police are here to help you. If you are lost or having problems find the nearest officer and seek assistance~_

* * *

><p>The scream that his Angel let out was quite possibly the loudest noise Jeremiah had ever heard.<p>

It was loud and high and shrill and ear splitting and absolutely heart breaking to hear. Every bone in his body ached at the sound and the entire room appeared to tremble.

Jeremiah held the knife firmly and twisted; watching as a fresh stream erupted from the young boy. His angel gasped and a half cry left his lips before he slumped back onto the ground and lay still.

Jeremiah smiled, and lay his angel's wrist down by his side. Watching as the blood began to trek across the floor and soak into the fabric of his angels clothes.

It was winding around, flowing through cracks and slowly snaking further and further away from the boy. Jeremiah watched its journey. Entranced. For some unknown reason it made him feel incredibly peaceful, it was as if everything had just fallen it place.

Things were going right...it was going to be perfect.

* * *

><p>Officer Jasper Mules had been with the Ohio State police for close on 2 years now. He had been witness to bar bashings, drunken driving, stabbings, rape cases and even a murder trial. Yet no case had quite made his heart race as the one of Kurt Hummel.<p>

He was enraptured as soon as the teens face was pinned on the board in the Westerville office. A large, see through board entirely dedicated to him.

Day by day more and more little pieces would be added to that board; a long black line leading to a family photo and descriptions, school photos, a screen shot of some CCTV footage. Then nothing.

Until now.

Now he was sitting in a squad car amongst an entire legion of police vehicles as they set of to Westerville's east district; fully equipped with guns, tazers, sedatives and sniffer dogs, which were each armed with an item of Hummel's clothing to help lead them.

Jasper was in a car further to the back. He was still fairly young and the other officers liked to keep him 'safe and sound' by making sure he was as far away from the action as possible. They were all heading to the 'most likely' location, whilst he was sent to the surrounding area to search.

Apparently the department had acquired the suspects address from a young woman who worked with him. She knew the rough location, but not the exact place; so they were currently scowering the entire 4 mile radius she had given them.

Right now though, Jasper's car had pulled up on the sidewalk of one of the smaller streets and he was getting out; patting his pocket to check on his gun before heading round to the trunk of the car and letting the sniffer dog out of the back.

* * *

><p>Jeremiah shifted in his place; pushing his hands down on the remaining dry ground to push himself to his feet.<p>

The knife still lay by his angel's side, Jeremiah having placed it there once he had extracted it from the teen's wrist. The blood was still flowing free. It just wouldn't stop. More and more was pouring out; creating a river down his angel's side. It was beautiful...

Jeremiah smiled and tore his gaze away as he turned; strolling across the darkened room to retrieve a small object from a nook in the wall.

The gun

* * *

><p>Jasper knelt down next to the sniffer dog (a large German Sheppard) with a sealed plastic wallet clutched in his hands.<p>

He slowly pulled the zipper open, extending it out so the dog could lock on to the scent.

The item within the wallet was maroon and cream striped scarf. It was stuffed into the plastic in a rather haphazard way, but Jasper supposed that was to prevent any scent confusion for the dog. If time was spent folding the victims scent would get weaker. And they couldn't have that.

He left the dog with the scarf for a moment as he locked up the squad car; stuffing the keys into a pocket underneath his bulletproof vest. He fished around in his pant pockets for a moment, confirming the location of all his 'gadgets'.

His gun was in a band around his waist along with his radio and flash-light. His stun-gun was in a pocket of the BPV and his Police ID was hidden just beneath the BPV's clip, attached to his shirt pocket. He felt like one of those cops from the movies. He snorted, now wishing he had some kind of sunglasses with him, to really look the part.

Suddenly Jasper spun around as the dog he had been assigned started barking madly. Her tail was wagging with a silent fury as she spouted her thoughts through each yowl.

Well this was a surprise...

Jasper knew what the bark meant. She had picked up a scent.

She had actually picked up a scent... Oh God...

Hummel was here...

* * *

><p>Jeremiah cradled the gun in his hand; loving the weight in his palm; the cold metal drawing the heat from his body as he twirled in around his fingers. He cocked the barrel out and counted the bullets inside. He'd used 2 already; one accidentally and one as a deliberate scare for his angel. That left one.<p>

One shining silver bullet that was his one way pass to the heavens.

Jeremiah chuckled as he slotted the barrel back in place and moved back to take a seat next to the bleeding teen.

Not long now...

* * *

><p>Jasper let the dog lead him; her nose dragging along the ground as she weaved down the sidewalk. Stopping occasionally to raise her snout to the sky and look around before she continued on her hunt.<p>

They'd been travelling around 3 or 4 minutes when she halted in front of a small white wash gate, rain damaged and damp, well hidden behind a solid block of trees. The dog sniffed the gate once and barked.

Jasper glanced down at the dog, which was now pawing at the gate; her claws tearing at the wood.

He swung it open with a piercing screech from the bolts and stepped through into a strange looking...garden?

* * *

><p>Upon closer inspection, Jasper found it was more like an old ornamental show lawn than a garden. Albeit a long since abandoned one.<p>

There was a long gravel path at least 200 feet, leading off across the grass, curving off just before it reached an old, rusting shed. It trailed out further and lead round to a small outhouse type thing about the same size as the shed, which looked like it belonged in an old movie, not this place. Back even further...at least 500 feet from the sidewalk... was an old house. It clearly hadn't been occupied for several years as there was some crudely drawn graffiti occupying one wall and some broken windows on the other. A line of trees ran directly from the front door to the gate and then down further alongside the sidewalk; obscuring the garden from a passer-by's view.

He gazed in slight awe at how run down the once beautiful place had become, before the dog started to drag him off.

His boots crunched down on the gravel as he was half dragged down the path; occasionally hearing crackled conversations ring out over the radio. A particularly loud one as they neared the outhouse told Jasper that unit's one and three were moving out. There was no sign of Hummel in their district...clearly...

* * *

><p>The dog froze for a moment as they passed the outhouse. Sniffing at the air and then at the lining of the door before continuing on with a soft growl.<p>

It was as they drew closer to the shed that his hound really started to kick up a fuss. She began tugging at the leash and reeling up on her hind legs in her struggle to get closer. Then she started to howl; loud and direct as she scrambled closer and closer. It was just as Jasper noticed the lock that he heard the scream.

* * *

><p>Jasper leapt into the air at the sound. It was high and shrill and sounded positively female...but it was a scream none the less. His heart began to race and his free hand jumped immediately to check his gun. He stepped closer to the shed and another scream rang out; This one just the same, if not louder than the first.<p>

Oh God! Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!

The screams were coming from the shed. It was definitely from inside.

Jasper's hand moved from his gun to his radio as he moved ever closer. He quickly pulled it out and held it to his ear, holding down the large grey button as he spoke.

'This is Officer Mules, squad car 471, requesting back up from all units, that's back up from all units. Over.'

He let the line fizzle down as his hand holding the dog's leash, settled on the door handle before a metallic voice rang out over the radio.

'Officer Mules. Please state your current location. Over.'

Jasper quickly recited the coordinates from his cars sat-nav and waited for the voice to reply.

'Copy that. Units 1 and 3, that's units one and three please report...'

Jasper ignored the rest and instead focused on the door. It had an automatic lock on it, which seemed extremely out of place on a supposedly abandoned shed. Shaking it would do no good, would it? He supposed trying wouldn't hurt.

* * *

><p>There was a strange noise coming from outside. It sounded...sounded like a dog.<p>

But that couldn't be...that wasn't right...No...This wasn't right!

* * *

><p>The door swung open on the first try. Jasper actually gasped in shock. He hadn't expected such a high-tech lock to give out so soon. He watched as the dog scrambled through and glanced down at the ground as he followed her inside.<p>

Oh...that was why it had opened so easily.

A small stone, probably a piece of gravel from the path, was lodged in the door seal; preventing it from closing properly and allowing the scream to be heard from outside.

Oh that was good. That was very good.

* * *

><p>When Jasper stepped inside, the layout of the room came as quite a shock. He wasn't expecting this at all.<p>

Instead of a tied up boy or even a room full of tools, what he found...was a stair case.

A long narrow concrete staircase leading straight down; the trap door above it having been left open.

He couldn't see anything past the top step, so swiftly pulled out his flashlight from his waist band.

Before swapping it over for the radio he quickly sent out another message. The dog was going crazy...this had to be it...

'Officer Mules . This is Officer Mules. Both suspect and victim are located, requesting backup immediately. Suspect is believed to be armed and dangerous. Repeat armed and dangerous. Back up is again requested. Over.'

He pocketed the radio and rolled the flashlight in his palm before flipping it on. The entire staircase was illuminated along with the rest of the shed. The sniffer dog was once again tugging at her leash, desperate to head down stairs. But truth be told. Jasper was fucking terrified.

He had never been this close to actually catching someone. Down those stairs was a kidnapped boy and a potential killer. Oh God. Oh holy...fucking...shit...he couldn't do this...he couldn't ...oh fuck...crap What the hell was he doing?

What the actual hell was he doing?

Down there was a kidnapped boy...and it was his job to save him. Damn everything else...he was going to be a hero.

* * *

><p>That was definitely a dog. He could hear the whining. There was something outside the door. Someone coming to mess with his plans. No No NO! This couldn't be happening. He needed to hurry. They were coming for him...No No NO! Not now...<p>

* * *

><p>Jasper quickly followed the dog down the stairs. Not noticing the smidgens of blood on every other step. By now his dog was practically screaming. Her barks were echoing of each wall and she was tearing at the bottom door, where another automatic lock was installed.<p>

* * *

><p>They were here! That dog...it was just outside the door. No NO NO!<p>

* * *

><p>Jasper tried shaking the handle again. This time the door didn't budge.<p>

He shook again...and again...and again, and again, and again, and again! Then began to pummel his fists on the wood. The dogs claws were scraping away at the bottom of the door. Splinters of wood slowly littering the floor by their feet.

Jasper tried again. This time throwing his entire body weight against the door as his shoulder slammed against it. A loud creak sounded out.

* * *

><p>The banging! Oh god! They were here. They were here and they were coming from him. Him and his angel. No NO NO, they would ruin everything. He wouldn't let them do this.<p>

Jeremiah glanced down at his precious angel, who's skin was paling as the crimson wept from his wrists. Jeremiah gave a small smile. Letting a small tear escape and roll down his cheek. He leant down and pressed a searing kiss to his angels lips. They were still so warm. Jeremiah let his tongue flick out and savour the taste of his beloved one more time.

'Don't worry angel.' He cooed. Pulling back and clutching at the sides of the teens face, stroking his thumbs back and forth. 'I'll be with you soon...I'm coming.'

* * *

><p>The damn door just wouldn't budge. Dear God! Where was back up when you needed it. Whatever was happening behind those doors had caused those blood curdling screams and fuck it if Jasper was going to let that continue any longer.<p>

He began to lash out and kick at the door, narrowly missing the dog with every blow he delivered.

* * *

><p>Jeremiah sat up, letting his hands slip down from his angel's face. He reached over and picked the gun up from his angels chest, where it rested while they shared their final kiss.<p>

The banging was getting louder and his heart was sky rocketing. He held up the gun and let his head fall down onto his angel's heart.

It was now or never...

* * *

><p>Suddenly the door burst open; Fragments of it flying out across the room. Jasper stepped through, his flash light illuminating the scene before him. A man...draped over a lifeless body...blood everywhere...<p>

Jasper froze.

Jeremiah spun round.

Two guns were raised.

And a single shot rang out...


	26. Chapter 26

In the seconds after the barrel releases the bullet, several things happen.

The clang of the bullet ricochets off the walls, the sound drumming over ear-drums and shaking bones. It echoes violently and the entire room trembles.

The dog that earlier stood at Jasper's heal dives in front of him. It's as if she's lunging at Jeremiah, her teeth poised and ready to strike. Her eyes gleam in the darkness of the room as her body rises from the ground, pouncing like a wolf. Her leash is ripped from Jasper's grip and the handle smashes to the ground.

Jasper staggers forwards, the force of his dog pulling him over. His torso begins to fall over his knees and he knows that he's going to fall. He can feel in happening. The ground his coming up to meet him and he knows it's going to hurt like sweet Jesus, he tries to hold his hand out to protect him but the gun has taken up his grip and is currently sailing backwards past Jasper's side, his hand in toe, causing his body to spin...

Jeremiah half screams. The gun in his hand trembling as he tries to hold it steady. His body slumps down so his back is crushing down on Kurt's ribs. His gun hand flying back into the air above his head.

The dog nears Jeremiah, her claws bared and ready to slash at his skin; a strangely protective instinct coming over her, presumably the strong scent of blood mingling with her other senses. Just before she reaches him she lets out a high pitched yowl and her eyes go wide.

* * *

><p>And the bullet strikes.<p>

* * *

><p>Jasper is thrown back as something solid smacks into his chest. He can feel the impact take the wind out of him and his stomach flips as his breath falters.<p>

Jeremiah falls back. His body draped across Kurt's chest; his arms splashing into the pools of crimson by the teen's side.

The dog's eyes fade; the bright ferocity fading by the millisecond until they are nothing but a damp brown rather than the flaming amber they were before.

* * *

><p>Jasper falls.<p>

And something falls back on top of him. Squeezing the remaining air out of his chest and sending his heart into over drive.

It's the dog.

The limp, dead weight of a murdered dog that is pinning him to the ground. He can see the red already leaking into its fur. The bullet clearly lodged somewhere deep in her neck from the rate at which the blood is streaming out. The heavy paws of the canine slam down on Jaspers arm, trapping his weapon hand to the ground. Jasper lets out a small squeak at the shock and momentarily freezes. But that moment is a moment too long.

Jeremiah is scrambling back upright. He slips in the puddle of blood and falls back over. It's messy and Jasper can hear the squeak of shoes on the floor as Jeremiah stumbles up. But he gets there. And he's striding towards Jasper the gun clasped between two sweaty palms and a manic gleam in his bloodshot eyes. And now he's standing almost directly over him and Jasper tries to break free but it's too late and the gun is aimed and the trigger pulled.

And a second shot sounds out...

* * *

><p>Jasper closes his eyes and waits for the next bullet to hit his chest. He hears it click into place. He hears it escape from the barrel and he even hears it slice through the air as it aims for its target.<p>

But he never feels the impact.

He can feel his jugular pounding in his neck and a head ache beginning to form, and he opens his eyes, ignoring it all in favour of sight. His eyes are mere narrow slits, but it's enough to see the following events unfold.

* * *

><p>The bullet hits its target. That much is obvious. In fact it's remarkable just how accurately it strikes.<p>

The target however isn't Jasper.

It's Jeremiah.

Well to be more precise it's actually directly through Jeremiah's chest.

* * *

><p>Jeremiahs gun clatters to the ground as he stumbles back; his trembling hands coming up to clutch at the seeping hole in his chest. His eyes are wide and fearful and he gazes down at the wound with an expression of absolute horror on his face. Then he looks back up to see the direction from which the bullet came...the door...<p>

He tries to speak but the sounds come out as more chocked 'cacks' than anything else. He lurches back again, the blood now pouring down his front. His knees start to shudder and he falls to his knees with a sickening crunch; the awful sound of bone shattering making Jasper gag more than the sight of a man being shot in front of him.

The man is trying to hold on...trying to speak or cry out or scream or do anything... But he can't...

Jeremiah's hands squeeze at his chest once more before his entire body sways and collapses back onto the floor. One arm falling to rest upon Kurt's; the other smashing down onto the cold concrete like his knees and now head. If the bullet hadn't hit him, the force of that blow to the skull would have killed him for sure...

...Killed him...

...He's dead...

There's a ringing in Jasper's ears, drowning out any other sound. He can't remember how to breathe properly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, trying to grip onto nothingness and the gun.

This can't be happening.

It can't be real.

He would say that he's dreaming, but his subconscious would have to be truly perverted to come up with something this morbid.

He strains to see, trying to sit up, but the weight of the dog keeping him down.

* * *

><p>Jeremiah is down. Almost certainly dead. And the teen next to him is bleeding out on the floor, no sign of a moving chest, no fluttering eye lids, no staggered breaths...just still.<p>

And then there are people.

* * *

><p>People pilling into the room, people everywhere. And they're shouting. And there are radios crackling and people calling out for help. And there's the sound of more dogs and more sirens and more voices filling the room, filling his head, filling his mind. And Jasper can't think...he can barely breathe. He is in sensory overload as everything happens at once. And he panics and he doesn't know what to do and he can feel his breaths becoming shallower as the dead dogs weight presses down on his rib cage. And then there are what seems like white sheets, and red and a whole swarm of blue and Jasper can't think he just...he can't...<p>

Just as something pink-y comes and clouds his remaining vision. Jaspers lets out a chocked cough... and passes out in a mess on the floor.


	27. Chapter 27

_~When you call the emergency services; know who to ask for: Fire Brigade, Police or Ambulance~_

* * *

><p>They knew they weren't meant to... but in the whole history of time... that excuse has never stopped a teenage boy before.<p>

* * *

><p>They had stayed over at Jeff's that evening; Robert having explained to the school that they would be away for the night.<p>

The following morning they were expected to drive back up to Dalton, and attended the day's classes; but when Nick had overheard Jeff's father on the phone to the chief of police. They knew they couldn't go back to school.

The biggest search party in Ohio in over 36 years was out to find Kurt Hummel.

Tonight, he _would_ be found.

* * *

><p>Jeff had told both Blaine and Nick to tell his dad that they would return to Dalton anyway. He of course, didn't mind in the slightest and had encouraged them to get down there quickly. They had then packed up a load of stuff in the boot of Jeff's car and driven down to Westerville, to find the police station.<p>

They had arrived there late at night and parked on the road opposite the station. It didn't take long before they saw the first cruiser fly out in a blaze of sirens...followed shortly by another, and another and another...mere seconds later there were police. Everywhere.

They watched car upon car was piling out of the driveway, streaming away towards the highway as they separated out.

They waited until the last straggler left the station before they began to trail them.

* * *

><p>Jeff had stolen one of his father's company radios and was currently trying to tune it in onto the frequency the cops were using, which was proving to be rather difficult. The hand held device kept switching in between some Mexican radio station and a conversation between two campers which contained some rather disturbing imagery about what would go down in the tent that night.<p>

It took at least 10 minutes before they could hone in on a clear enough signal for them to use.

Another 5 minutes later and they heard the first speech. The radio crackled into life as a metal tinged voice rang through.

'Unit 1 has no yield, I repeat unit one has no yield. Moving out. Over.'

Shortly followed by the same message, only this time it was Unit 3.

Jeff sighed as he continued to trail around the county, following any police car that happened to cross their path. Changing directions so many times Blaine was feeling positively nauseous.

That was when they heard it.

'This is Officer Mules, squad car 471, requesting back up from all units, that's back up from all units. Over.'

The boys froze, their car skidded to a halt, and some angry driver blasted his horn as he whizzed past them down the road.

'I think this is it boys.' Jeff said, his voice high in excitement.

A couple of seconds later another voice echoed down the line.

'Officer Mules. Please state your current location. Over.'

'This is Officer Mules. Current Location is...'

Jeff quickly typed the co-ordinates into his cars sat-nav and waited for a route to show up.

'That's not far from here.' Blaine announced, the second the route planner came up. 'Oh God. Kurt...He...He's so close.'

Nick and Jeff both nodded, not quite sure what to say... turns out the radio announced it for them.

'Copy that. Units 1 and 3, that's units 1 and 3 report to...' He announced the address again as Jeff stared solemnly at the steering wheel. Suddenly realising that whatever is happening right now, when they find it...it will be far from pretty.

'Copy that...' he said slowly, as the cars other occupants remain silent. 'I guess now...now we find Kurt.'

* * *

><p>They were nearing the location of one 'Officer Mules'. Only 8 minutes away according to the sat-nav, but that was when the last message was heard.<p>

'Officer Mules . This is Officer Mules. Both suspect and victim are located, requesting backup immediately.'

Each boys jaw dropped...Kurt...they had- Blaine actually squeaked. His heart rate was rocketing and his mind whirring at a hundred miles an hour. 'Victim located'. He said victim located. That must be Kurt. Oh God... Oh-

'Suspect is believed to be armed and dangerous. Repeat armed and dangerous. Back up is again requested. Over.'

They found him...they found Kurt...Kurt...

Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt...wait.

'Armed and dangerous.'

_FUCK!_

* * *

><p>Two minutes away and the Warblers could already tell they were close. They were being continuously passed by police cruiser after cruiser; with lights ablaze and sirens screaming. The dark sky above was polluted by the red and blue lights spilling into the atmosphere from just down the road. The deathly silence of the night ripped to pieces by the never ending cycle of sirens, horns and the occasional scream.<p>

* * *

><p>Blaine was already struggling with his seat belt as Jeff spun the car around the corner. A huge storm of red and blue flashing lights greeted them; the sea of emergency vehicles blocking the cars way.<p>

Blaine threw the car door open and tumbled out onto the road, ignoring the fact the Jeff's car was still moving. Blaine rolled across the ground; the sleeves and knees of his outfit tearing as his slid. But Blaine kept going and quickly stumbled to his feet; his hands snagging on the tarmac as he pushed himself up.

He broke into a run. Hurtling towards the flashing lights as Jeff slammed on the breaks and his car squealed across the street, stopping just short of a lamp post.

Blaine's footing was unsteady and was swerving quite violently; a pounding in his head drowning out all other noise bar the pulse in his chest.

He kept going; followed shortly after by both Nick and Jeff who had abandoned the car at the side of the road, doors wide open and keys in the ignition, in favour of chasing down Blaine.

A stocky police officer was currently rolling a long strip of 'Police Line- Do Not Cross' tape across the street, securing each end onto a lamppost and twanging it with his fingers as more and more men dressed in navy and reflective jackets swarmed the area. Blaine wanted to stop...he wanted to stop and breathe and allow himself to regain control of his body. But his body wouldn't let him.

There were people standing at the sides of the street and in doorways, watching as the events unfolded. One particularly grotty woman, with a cigarette hanging from her lips cried out as Blaine made a leap for the yellow and black striped tape.

'Stop that kid.' She cried his voice high and nasally. The man who had earlier been tying it spun around just in time to see Blaine make a running leap and sail over the tape that cordoned off the area, which was at least up to his waist. Blaine stumbled as he landed, and felt himself fall to the ground. The cop was running towards him and Blaine quickly staggered upright and continued on. Weaving in and out of the parked vehicles and dodging any uniformed officers.

Jeff and Nick had been stopped at the tape, being forcibly held back by two rather butch, navy clad men. They were struggling desperately, trying to get closer, having lost all sight of Blaine by then.

Blaine heard their shouts as he ran.

There were at least 5 officers chasing Blaine by this point. But he was still no closer to his target. He was searching desperately. Looking for any signs of Kurt...anything. A head of brunette hair, toothless smile...just something, but everything was obscured by the sea of police cruisers and cops. The odd dog too.

'There he is.' Cried the same officer who had seen him at the tape, and Blaine's heart leapt. 'Grab him. 'He quickly dashed forwards, placing his hand on one cruisers bonnet as he jumped and slid over it, landing rather ungracefully on the other side. 'Unauthorised personal...' Blaine heard a man cry into his radio. 'Small, dark haired heading down towards Unit 3. Get him.'

More men joined the chase, and Blaine found himself being grabbed at from all sides. Rogue hands reaching out to try and snatch at him as he ran. Blaine ducked past another officer, this one with a dog as he hurtled around another cluster of cars, avoiding any collisions as his feet lead him through.

Until of course...they froze. Well...Blaine froze.

He staggered to a halt as he emerged at the other side of the police blockade. Parked right before him were 3 ambulances. And emerging through an old gate at that very moment; were three stretchers.

* * *

><p>His heart stopped; and not in the figurative way. He could physically sense the lack of blood being pumped around his body. He began to feel light headed and swayed violently.<p>

'Kurt' He cried. Staring ahead as the first of the stretches was wheeled over to an ambulance. Paramedics surrounding the body lying there as they prodded and poked, one yelling orders down a hand held radio.

He stumbled forwards, gripping onto the wing mirror of a stationary cop car.

Seconds later and the next stretcher was visible. It too was surrounded by green clad paramedics, except when Blaine caught a small sight of the person on top he saw an oxygen mask stuck across their mouth and a head brace covering the hair. God damn, he couldn't tell if either was Kurt.

Then the final stretcher emerged.

This one was the one that nearly finished Blaine off. There was only one person (bar the two pushing) that was alongside this stretcher. And from the moment Blaine saw it, he knew why. There was no need for desperate paramedics. The person there...was already dead.

* * *

><p>Blaine watched as each individual stretcher was hoisted up into the back of their respective ambulance. He felt his knees buckle and he fell to the ground as the door to the first was slammed shut.<p>

'Kurt' he sobbed. 'Oh god Kurt.' Blaine felt his entire body slacken and everything around him seemed to slow.

He didn't resist as he felt two pairs of heavy hands clamp down on his shoulders and drag him upright. He let them take him, he was useless right now, his own body limp and unresponsive...well ...except his voice.

'Kurt' he screamed, watching as the first ambulance drove away in a blaze of lights and sirens. 'KURT!'

He watched the second ambulance follow shortly after. It too, hurtling down the road, regardless of obstacles. Then, as he was being dragged back through the crowds of police cars, he caught sight of the final stretcher being placed in an ambulance.

On the stretcher was a white sheet; Just a sheet, which covered the outlines of a distinctively human form. Blaine could make out the shape of the nose, the curve of the forehead and even the shape of the legs. He also saw the red that was starting to stain the sheet above the chest. Then the door slammed, and the engine roared into life. And it left...and Blaine broke.

* * *

><p>Blaine wept; his tears cascading down his cheeks and mixing with his desperate cries as they spilled from his mouth.<p>

One of those bodies belonged to his friend.

One of those bodies belonged to his best friend.

One of those bodies belonged to the boy who had the most beautiful voice Blaine had ever heard.

One of those bodies belonged to the boy who was so beautiful, Blaine could hardly breath.

One of those bodies belonged to the boy he loved...

One of those bodies belonged to a boy, whom he may never see alive again...


	28. Chapter 28

The hospital waiting room was far too bright for this time of night.

The long fluorescent tubes that lined the ceilings were casting an eerie incandescent glow across the room. Leaving the once blindingly white room, slightly too yellow.

Blaine, Nick and Jeff were huddled in the far corner of the room; bunched together on some rickety plastic chairs around an old table; each with an untouched mug of coffee in their hands. Whilst Burt and Carole were curled together on an old faux leather couch as Burt sobbed quietly into his sleeve.

* * *

><p>Blaine had been escorted back to Nick and Jeff almost immediately after the ambulances had left. Both Nick and Jeff were pleading with the officers to tell them where they were taking Kurt, but no one would say anything. Blaine was hunched over on the tarmac by Jeff's car. His knees pressed tightly to his chest as he sobbed whole heartedly into the fabric of his pants. It took at least 10 minutes before Nick and Jeff gave up; then wondered back over to the car with such dejected expressions one could cry.<p>

They helped lift Blaine up to his feet, and Jeff pulled out a rumpled paper tissue from his pocket, and handed it to Blaine to dry his tears. They were all getting into the car when a small ginger lady ran over to them.

She too was clad in the Westerville Police uniform, but her face didn't speak of anger and frustration at the intruding boys.

She hurried over to them and rapped on the window of Jeff's door. He rolled it down tentatively and the ginger woman glanced around furtively, before leaning it.

'They're taking the three to Westerville Memorial.' She hissed. 'I'm not meant to say, but you boys tried so hard, you deserve to know...especially your friend.' She added, nodding towards Blaine, who was curled up in the back seat. 'The Chiefs contacting the next of kin right now, so they should join you at the hospital...you're after Mr Hummel right?'

The boys nodded. 'He's our best friend' Nick replied 'And...And...'

'It's ok.' The woman cooed, hushing the boy as he fumbled for words. 'I get it...don't worry...well...I mean...I take it your friend saw the ambulances right?...I saw him running and I guessed...'

Jeff nodded again.

'Tell him...Mr Hummel isn't dead.' She said, and Blaine shot up.

'What?' He exclaimed his eyes wide and jaw slack. The woman looked slightly surprised that Blaine heard her, or that he was listening in the first place, but she continued none the less.

'He's alive...he was in the first ambulance...he...he has extensive injuries...but for now...he's alive.'

'Oh...Oh God.' Blaine said, small tears welling up. 'He's...he's alive, Oh my God...Oh My GOD!' Blaine was smiling like an idiot now, his eyes lighting up, his mind choosing to ignore the second part of what she said in favour of preserving this new joy. 'Oh...thank you, thank you, Thank You!' He cried, clapping his hands together in his seat. 'Oh my god!'

'It's fine...just, be safe ok. No more dangerous driving. I can give you the Hospitals address if you'd like.'

Jeff nodded and the woman had pulled out a small white card from her pocket, and scribbled down the address. She handed it over to Jeff and gave the boys a nod as she pulled herself away from the car.

'You boys best get going.' She said. 'The clean up Op will be down here soon as will forensics and you don't want to get blocked in.'

The boys smiled and thanked her, before quickly plugging in the cards details in Jeff's sat-nav and driving off.

* * *

><p>About 3 minutes into the drive, what the woman had said actually sunk in...<p>

'Extensive injuries'... 'Alive...for now'...

Oh...Oh God!

* * *

><p>They arrived around 20 minutes later and all hurtled towards the front desk.<p>

Nick was the first to speak.

'Kurt Hummel.' He spoke, through breathless pants. 'Is Kurt Hummel here?'

The woman sat behind the desk glanced up from her copy of Cosmo, giving her gum and overly loud pop.

'Family?'

Jeff and Blaine both hesitated, before Nick replied. 'Yes. I'm his cousin, so's he ' He pointed to Jeff. 'That's his step-brother' he added, prodding Blaine's ribs. '..we go to boarding school nearby, we got here as soon as we could. Is he here?'

The woman gave them a sceptical loo before tapping her fingers across the keyboard. She rolled her jaw again and a large bubble appeared from her lips, which burst seconds later.

'You don't look like family.' She stated, in a monotonic voice. 'Are you sure-'

'Yes we're freaking sure.' Jeff cried, raising his hands above his head in exasperation. 'Look-' He took a deep breath. 'Can you please just tell me where the hell he is? ...because he's been missing for nearly a month and I want to _Freaking_ see him!'

'No can do sir.' She said, smirking. 'I need proof of your relationship, once I have that then-'

'PLEASE.' Nick begged, cutting the receptionist off. 'Please, we just need to know if he's ok...please.' The final please came out as more of a whimper as the tears he had been trying to hold in begun to spring up.

The woman rolled her eyes and started typing again, never looking back up to meet the boys gaze. After a couple of moments, Nicks shoulders slumped, and he turned about to walk away, the others all following a similar suit when the woman spoke up.

'He's in the ER at the moment.' She called, still typing. 'No visitors.' She paused for a moment before adding. 'Waiting room's that way.' -and pointing left down the hall.

* * *

><p>They had been waiting for little under an hour when Burt and Carole finally arrived. Both panting heavily and out of breath, having clearly just run into the hospital. Burt glanced around the almost empty waiting room when he caught a sight of the three warblers. He scowled slightly at the three but went to sit down anyway.<p>

He and his wife took seat on a rickety old couch opposite the door. Burt's face was streaked with tears and Carole didn't look much better. It was very late by then and they both looked extremely tired. Carole's hair was stuck up slightly, and she kept running her fingers through trying to correct it, Burt had huge, heavy bags beneath his eyes. The Warblers hadn't seen him since this whole debarkal began and judging by the look of him, he was by no means handling this well, if at all.

His face was dark and there were long creases along his forehead, from a permanent frown. His eyes were tinged with red, slightly bloodshot and there were long strips of salt remnants on his cheeks from old tears. His body was frail. Not super skinny, but he had clearly lost a lot of weight. His clothes hung rather loosely on his frame and his hands had acquired a permanent tremor.

Blaine almost wanted to walk over there and hug him...but then he realised that Burt may still hold him more than a little responsible for what had happened to his son, so he thought better of it and stayed put.

He responded when Burt greeted the three boys, but other than that, they didn't speak...no one did.

* * *

><p>Every time a Doctor or nurse walked past the waiting room, everyone inside tensed up, eyes fixed purposefully on the figure, watching their every movement; praying to whatever divinity they could think of that this would be the one. This would be the person with news of Kurt. The person to tell them that he was ok, that he was going to be ok, that he was awake or alive or <em>anything.<em>

By this point, it was reaching the early hours of the morning. The only sign of the time being the waiting room occupants extremely exhausted faces, and the old clock on the wall, that made an obnoxiously loud beep whenever a 10 minute period had passed.

Jeff had nearly fallen asleep, his head kept slumping down before he shot up again, shaking his head, trying to de-fuzz his mind, but to little affect. Carole had her chin tucked into the crease of Burt's neck, running her fingers up and down his arm as he stared into space, a blank expression occupying his tear stained face.

* * *

><p>Nick had stood up, and wandered over to a vending machine on the far side of the room. His fingers pressed shakily at the buttons as he stuck a few coins in and waited for his drink to arrive. As he was heading back to his seat a man dressed in a long white lab coat, emerged through the double doors into the private waiting room. In his hands he clutched a small brown clip board. And on his face, he bore an expression of gloom and almost guilt.<p>

Burt spun round when he heard the doors creak and as soon as he laid eyes on the man he leapt to his feet.

'Where's Kurt.' He cried, striding over to the man. 'Where the hell is my son?'

'Mr Hummel?' the man asked. Burt nodded, wringing his hands together with worry. 'I'm Doctor Fielding. I'm handling your son's case right now.'

'What's happening? Is he ok?' Burt half shouted, before Carole shot him a meaningful look... 'I mean...'

'I know perfectly well what you mean Mr Hummel...don't worry. We often have troubled loved ones pass through and you have been by no means the worst in here.'

'Is he...?' Burt trailed off, looking straight at the doctor. 'You know...?'

The doctor glanced around the room, taking note of the three teens gathered in the corner.

'Perhaps it would be best if we discuss this somewhere more...private?' Dr. Fielding said.

Burt glanced to Carole, who nodded, rubbing soothing circles on Burt's back all the while.

'Err...ok.' Burt replied, before quickly turning to the boys. 'We'll be back in a bit... kids...the doc just...wants to have a few words.'

The three just nodded, not even looking up to meet Burt's eye. The older man shrugged, and followed the doctor and his wife out of the waiting room and down the hall.

* * *

><p>'Well the good news is, he's alive.' The doctor said, flipping through the bustling white pages clipped to the board in his hands. 'He's just come out of the ER and we are shipping him straight down to the IC unit...' he hesitated, his eyes flicking from Burt to Carole. 'He...He's not in the best of shapes, Mr Hummel.' He said, addressing Burt again. 'He has extensive wounds to his legs and chest and an incredibly deep wound to the wrist. He...he was almost fatally low on blood, he was barely holding on when we brought him in...His heart and thus pulse are still very weak...but he's alive.'<p>

'What...what happens now?' Burt asked, his eyes shining with tears. By the looks of his wife, she was asking herself the same question.

'I'm afraid no one is allowed to see him for at least another 12 hours.' The doctor said. 'There is so much damage to his body that needs to be treated. Emergency surgery could only patch him up so much...tests and diagnostics need to be run. He's booked in for several X-rays, a full body MRI and possibly at CT scan after that... His wounds need treating and we need to keep refreshing his blood supply and his IV...at this point...the chances are ...well' he hesitated, blinking rapidly in succession '...we got to him just in time, any longer and he would probably wouldn't have made it...He was bleeding out in an incredibly unhygienic and toxic environment, his body was malnourished and he was suffering severe vitamin deficiencies from lack of food and sunlight... There are some very serious incisions on his back made with a badly contaminated tool...they need to be cleaned and disinfected... and what I'm telling you now is just what I remember off the top if my head Mr Hummel...there is more' he flipped through his clip board pages again '-and it's not pretty... just remember sir...he _was _on the cusp of death and that won't be cured over night.' The doctor swallowed. His knuckles going white as he clutched his clip board more and more tightly.

'We are placing him into a coma, Mr Hummel. It is medically induced and we should be able to pull him out in a day or two...but until then we have no concrete guarantee that he's going to make it...' He stuttered. 'A-as I said...the odds are in your favour...our team here is fantastic and we will do everything we can...but as a professional...I can't make any promises sir.'

'That's...' Burt sighed. 'That's good to know doctor, as long as he's alive.'


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: As much as i hate to say, this is it...the end of LUL; the first fic that Effy here has ever actually finished. It's been fun, and I'm going to miss it. And miss you guys and all your lovely and amazing comments. You lot really made this fun and I can never thank you enough for that. I love you guys...and I sound really cheesy and I know it, but seriously...Thank you! **

**LUL was only ever meant to be the crime. There is more to come regarding Kurt and his recovery etc. after if people would still like me to post a sequel. **

**And finally a little reminder to you readers. Although this is vastily dramatised for the purpose of entertainment. Abductions actually happen far far too much. The headers at the start of the chapters are all from a document issued by schools for their pupils, and although i have twisted it for my own means, it is still something people do need to pay attention to. But I digress.**

**So now, without further ado, I present you with the final chapter of Lessons Unlearned.**

**Enjoy...**

* * *

><p><em>~Stranger Safety is vital. Memorise these points and spread the word. ~<em>

_~ This is to keep _you _safe! ~_

_~Abductions happen dozens of times a year. Don't let yourself become another victim ~_

* * *

><p>21 hours and 36 minutes and around 19 seconds, give or take. That was how long Blaine Anderson had been waiting. He hadn't slept; instead keeping himself awake with a never ending stream of coffee supplied by an old machine across the room.<p>

Nick and Jeff had managed to stay until late morning but a call from Robert Sterling, questioning as to why the Dalton Faculty thought they weren't in class resulted in their departure just before lunch time.

But Blaine stayed.

He couldn't leave. He wouldn't leave. He needed to know Kurt was going to be ok. He needed to know more than he needed air in his lungs or blood in his veins. At this very moment his entire world was revolving around Kurt, and he'd be damned if he let some pompous school dean halt that orbit.

* * *

><p>It was family visiting time now. The Hummels had of course, been ushered off down the corridor to see their son. Blaine knowing well enough to stay out of it right now, because this was family time, and no matter what he'd told the hospital staff, he still wasn't any relation to Kurt.<p>

The staff wouldn't say anything. They kept dropping by and giving timings, but never any actual news, which was beginning to get rather frustrating.

No one else had been allowed in to the hospital to see Kurt; all his teenage friends being stuck at school, and forced to stay there by their parents. Blaine, being the only one left in the waiting room now the Hummels were with Kurt, felt incredibly lonely. (He was pretending to be sick so no one would question his absence in class, but even he had been questioned by the nurses as to why he was not in school)

But he couldn't go back...he couldn't bear the thought of something happening to Kurt whilst he wasn't there. He would never forgive himself if something bad happened.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later and Burt and Carole were back. Burt had been clearly crying, as had Carole. It was strange seeing two usually strong people crumble before your eyes. At least, that was how Blaine felt as he watched the two of them arrive back in the waiting room.<p>

They sat together again, quietly whispering to each other, completely separated from the outside world.

Blaine sat alone in his corner, watching the pair, nursing a cup of coffee and not really knowing what else to do with himself. He couldn't leave...he couldn't. He needed to see Kurt, he needed to. He needed proof. He wasn't sure what of but he needed to confirm it with his own eyes.

Blaine swallowed tightly, before getting shakily to his feet and walking over to the Hummels.

* * *

><p>'Mr Hummel?' He asked, shuffling on his feet as he stopped beside the older couple.<p>

'Blaine?' The man said, turning to eye the boy, trying at the same time, to surreptitiously wipe away his tears. 'What is it?'

'Err...how is he?' Blaine asked hesitantly as Burt clung to Carole.

'He's...' there was no point lying. 'He's not great kid. He's doing ok considering, but he's not great...He's still asleep...they are probably gonna wake him up tomorra' sometime... see how he's doing and then put him under again for more tests...'

'Are they...I mean what they...no...?' Blaine stopped, fumbling for words. 'What tests are they doing?' he finally said.

Now it was Burt who was slightly lost for words. 'Err...well, most of his surgeries are done now...so just...tests to see how bad his other injuries are at the moment.' He said. 'Like X-rays ... Other.' He rolled his hands to demonstrate. '-more personal stuff and things are happening later, but...no offense kid, I don't really feel comfortable discussing that with some teenager I barely know.'

'Oh, right.' Blaine said quickly, flushing deeply. 'Sorry sir I'll-' He turned on his feet, getting ready to walk away

'Hey, hold up.' Burt called. 'Just cos I don't wanna tell you my son's life story, don't mean that you have to go off...come back kiddo.'

Blaine turned back, and Carole nodded encouragingly to him.

'I wasn't tryin' to be mean...I'm not good with emotions right now, so sorry if I come off a little harsh...it's just...a shock..with Kurt and all.'

Blaine nodded. There wasn't really any verbal way he could respond.

Burt cleared his throat 'Now kid.' He said, trying his best to pull on a smile. 'Was there anything else you wanted...because with your friends gone, I guess you can only really ask us.' He gestured to himself and his wife.

'Umm...' Blaine hesitated, glancing between the pair. 'I was wondering...if I could... would I be allowed...to see Kurt, sir.' He glanced at Kurt's father, desperately seeking approval.

At first Burt said nothing, just stared at Blaine as if examining every tiny detail of the young boy. Blaine honestly felt rather creeped out by this for he was suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable.

'Hmmm.' Burt hummed, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth as he struggled to make sure no more tears fell in front of the teenager.

'I... Hmm... You have stayed a hell of a long time...' he paused. 'Your parents are ok with you being here, right?'

'Ummm...yes?' Blaine lied quickly. They still didn't know he was here. They probably didn't even know Kurt had been found, yet alone that Blaine was with him, or even that Blaine liked the boy. '-of course.'

'Be straight with me kid' Burt said gruffly, seeing straight through Blaine's statement. 'I don't like people lying to me. That's how this whole thing started.'

Blaine flinched.

'Umm...sorry sir...I.' He paused, thinking to himself. 'No they don't...but they probably wouldn't mind if they knew where I was...sorry'

'That's ok...Just tell them later ok...I don't want you getting into any trouble for staying so long.' Burt said, before pausing. 'Why did you stay so long?' He asked. 'I know your friends went and I know you need sleep or at least a shower son. You can go home if you want, don't feel obligated to stay!'

I guess...' Blaine took a deep breath raised his vision to lock eyes with Burt. 'I just feel...sir... I'm sorry...I'm really, really sorry, I really truly am, there are no words I can even think of to express how bad I feel about all this...I have been crying like a baby nonstop and lately I can barely eat, let alone sleep. I'm sure it has been far, far worse for you sir, but we have all suffered...and I know I'm at least partly responsible for what happened because I was stupid and I was a blind, arrogant, ignorant fool, too thick to see what was right in front of me.' He paused for air, blinking rapidly. 'And I know the other two went back to Dalton, but they needed to... I... I just...I just need to see _him_ sir, just _see_ him...I _have _to...I _can't_ leave...I _need _to know he's going to be ok...and, and-.'

'Hey hey, hold up kid.' Burt said quickly as Blaine's breathing sped up and he began to babble. 'No one's angry with you, if that's what you think...at least not at the moment ...and I ain't blaming you for anything right now, none of us are in any state to start arguments that will get out of hand. We can talk about those sorts of things and all that at a later point when we are all thinking more rationally'

Blaine nodded, albeit a little breathlessly.

'Now...' he sniffed. 'You can go see Kurt kiddo, I ain't going to stop you...you care about him a lot, I heard some of what you boys did and I'm sure Kurt will be very grateful when he wakes up...just-'

Burt sniffed again, and Carole wrapped herself even more tightly around him.

'I don't know if you've heard what's happened to him...hell, even I don't know everything...he's very, very hurt and well...He doesn't look good kid...I won't lie...he'll get better, but right now...he's a mess...there are wires and machines and of course his injuries...he won't look like the Kurt you remember...just, be careful'

Blaine nodded frantically. 'Oh thank you, thank you, thank you sir.'

Burt chuckled quietly. 'Calm down kid. I'll call one of them nurses in here later and they can take you to him ok...its family only right now though so...'

'Oh.' Blaine said. 'That's...that shouldn't be a problem...we may have told the receptionist that I was related to Kurt...so we could get in...I didn't mean-.' he looked down at his feet

Burt laughed again, the tears pooled in his eyes, gradually receding. 'S'ok kiddo...' he smiled. 'Just...be prepared ok?'

* * *

><p>Burt was wrong.<p>

He couldn't be prepared.

Nothing on earth could have prepared him for this.

* * *

><p>Kurt's body was battered and bruised and would have been almost unrecognisable were it not for his name scrawled at the foot of his bed.<p>

* * *

><p>The teen was deathly still. Not a tremor throughout his body. His skin was so pale he practically matched the clinical white sheets on which he lay. His lips were torn and cracked. His cheeks were hollow and the skin was so taught you could practically see his bones protruding from beneath.<p>

'Oh God.'

One of his legs was suspended from the ceiling, clad in plaster and held aloft by a mechanical sling. The other was beneath a blanket, but even the outline of it was far too thin.

His arms. Oh lord his arms. The one closest to Blaine was littered with cuts and bruises. Some wrapped in plasters and bandages, the others were on show to everyone. Just at the join of his hand to his wrist there was a large needle, protruding from the skin, attached to a drip that was slowly pumping his body with liquids. Another was further up his arm, this one connected to a blood bag, which was nearing half empty by this point. His other arm, well...that one was completely hidden by bandages. It was also held above the bed, again in a sling like contraption. It looked frail and weak and the skin was mottled; a nauseating yellow like tinge sneaking its way up to the boys shoulder, where upon it became hidden by clothing.

'This...oh God...'

Leading on from the shoulders, Blaine spied Kurt's neck. Around which there was a thin band of more yellow, dead skin, and the imprint of a buckle. Several pin prick like dots were present too, clearly from something snagging at the skin if the other cuts and scars there were anything to go by.

His chest had wires protruding from all over. Small sticky sensor pads were glued to his skin and the heart monitor beeping steadily in the background was hardly inconspicuous.

There were blocks holding his head in place and from his nose came a long plastic tube, which Blaine presumed was feeding Kurt pulverised food. Over his mouth sat a clear mask, fogged up as the boy below breathed. He was helpless.

Padding and cushioning were all over him, specifically on his back, keeping him slightly aloft from the bed, a small space of air separating Kurt from the beds surface. Blaine could see yet more bruising leading below his hospital gown and he was sure there was even more obstructed by it.

And despite all this, Kurt just lay there.

As if he were asleep.

As if he were dead.

* * *

><p>Blaine crossed the room, the nurse who had taken him there remaining by the door, watching the teen with sorry eyes as his own began to fill with tears.<p>

Kurt...beautiful, beautiful Kurt. How could this be him? Why would anyone even think of doing this to such a wonderful person?

'There's a chair if you want to sit down sweets.' The nurse, who had accompanied him to the room, cooed, watching as Blaine stared down at Kurt, his outstretched hand following the outline of Kurt's body, never touching, just floating.

'I...thank you.' He said, his eyes never leaving Kurt as they roamed up and down, taking in all they could. 'This is...'

He stepped back, reaching blindly for the chair, before snatching a hold of the back and dragging it over to Kurt's beside with a terrible screech and immediately sitting as his entire body trembled.

'Would you maybe like a moment alone?' The nurse asked. 'I can give you a couple of minutes.'

'That would be' A sniff. 'I would appreciate that...thank you.' He replied, still watching Kurt; his hand moving to cup Kurt's bruised cheek.

The woman smiled, and backed out of the door, gently shutting it behind her; leaving Blaine alone with Kurt and his thoughts.

* * *

><p>'I know this coma is medically induced, so i don't really know what happens now, or if you can hear me...but even if you can't...I still need to tell you something Kurt, and I'll repeat it all to you again and again, because I can never say it enough...but right now... I'm sorry Kurt.'<p>

'I'm so freaking sorry...this is all my fault and I know it was. Nick and Jeff wouldn't talk to me at first because they blamed me so much... If I wasn't so damn infatuated with that ...that bastard, this may never have happened. But then I was stupid and I wound you up, and didn't respect you and made you go to him...and I'm sorry, so, so sorry...he...I can't believe he did this to you Kurt. You deserve the world...not this...no one deserves this, but especially not you...never you...and I'm so sorry that this ever happened...but...'

A thumb runs back and forth across Kurt's scratch ridden jaw.

'...but you're going to get better Kurt...I know it...and then...then I don't know...you'll probably hate me and never want to see me again...but the others...they are so happy you're safe...Nick and Jeff are telling them right now...they were sent back to school...but I stayed...I needed to see you Kurt...I needed to know you'd be ok...'

* * *

><p>As Blaine sat there; moving his fingers to gently run through Kurt's matted hair, he smiled softly to himself.<p>

Kurt was here, and he was safe, and that was all Blaine could ask for.

He listened to Kurt's breath echo in his oxygen mask and watched the condensation inside wax and wane. He smiled to himself as he continued to brush Kurt's bangs back from his face; tracing his index finger across a crease in his brow, smoothing down the skin.

He was beautiful. Even like this, with bruises and cuts coating his body. He was still the beautiful boy Blaine knew and loved. He was still Kurt and he was still wonderful.

Nothing could take that away from him.

Nothing, absolutely nothing could stop Kurt Hummel being the most amazing person to ever grace this world.

Blaine leant down and brushed his lips against Kurt's temple, just grazing the skin there; nuzzling his nose against the same spot, simply rejoicing in Kurt's presence.

He leant back slightly and watched as his breath ghosted on the young boy's skin, making each hair stand up as goose-bumps pimpled down his skin. Blaine could feel his eyes mist up.

... Kurt ...

The boy laid still, the slow rise and fall of his chest and gentle beep in the background being the only signs that he was still in this realm. Blaine stroked his finger down Kurt's cheek again; a deep breath leaving his body, taking with it a knot of apprehension from his stomach.

He would be ok...he was going to be ok.

A small chuckle left Blaine's lips and a single tear splashed down onto the side of Kurt's face. Blaine smiled again, and quickly wiped away the salty liquid and cupped Kurt's cheek in his palm.

'Oh God Kurt.' He said, a nervous chuckle mixed in with his voice. 'You...you're going to be ok Kurt...love, you're going to be ok.' He leant down and pressed another, barely there kiss to the boy's skin.

'Oh Kurt... I love you...' He smiled down at his friend; his eyes clouded with unshed tears as he gazed down at the boy sleeping below 'I love you and nothing will stop me, you're going to be ok Kurt, and I'll be there waiting, because I love you...I'm an idiot, but I really do...'

He let go of Kurt's cheeks, and moved his hands down to clutch at Kurt's; carefully avoiding the wires and tubes as he entwined their fingers on Kurt's uninjured hand.

'And you know something.' He said, holding the other boy tightly as he smiled down at him. 'No matter what Kurt...no matter what people say or do, or what I say or do or... anything...no matter what happens...everything's going to be ok...and I'll make sure of it...I love you...' He squeezed their fingers together, and simply sat there, gazing at Kurt with nothing but affection in his eyes.

'...No matter what Kurt...

...I'll never say goodbye to you.'

* * *

><p><strong>FIN<strong>

**Thank you**

**P.S. The sequel is up. ****Lessons in Life**** can be found on my profile now.**


End file.
